January 13th, 2007

abstract butterfly

substantial icing

Thank you to everyone who did for your participation in my "question time" post yesterday, as to which responses continue to roll in. I feel as though I know a lot more about a lot more of you than I did before, and as to one user, I learned, to my dismay, that I knew the user very well, but did not realize his username had changed. I should keep better track. I know it is a tax of sorts upon one's time to answer incisive and inane questions (some in the same question set), and I appreciate that each of you has an inner tolltag that nearly automatically deposits the right coin eloquently.

Today the winter storm finally rolled in. Rain fell in welcome buckets. The temperature hovers just at or above freezing--by the morning, we are to be riding silver horses on shimmering shields of ice. My horse is a hyundai. We went to the local mall to take a walk today, in lieu of the hike I hunger for for healthy habits. The post-holiday sales featured signs saying "70% Clearance" and, sadly, "store closing" a few times. I wanted to buy a new electric razor, but in fact I bought only some magazines at a bookstore. The forecast reads "warning" and "substantial icing", so we are in the last best hope before shimmering, shiny peace.

I love when we have a proper north Texas winter--a day or two of ice, following a week in the 60s. Perhaps our local Lake Lavon, some 14 feet below its level as of Thursday, will reach once more the pre-drought levels this winter. Its dissipation is in keeping with its usual eleven year sun-spot-like weather cycle, but the drop has been to a lower level than has been the case in many a year, and perhaps since it was hewn out of prairie and turned into pond.

I have Isaac Asimov's science fiction magazine, which features an editorial about used bookstores with which I heartily agree, except that I actually read things in sci fi magazines three or four times before I really fully grok their fullness, so I should say I heartily read, and will ultimately read often enough for agreement. I have Virtual Instruments, which gives me the option of plugging in things that imitate conventional instruments, when in fact I'd rather turn on, tune in and drop out plug-in instruments that open different doorways of perception. I listened to a charming woman with an English accent read Wilfrid Owen's "Anthem for Doomed Youth" on Librivox, that worthy site where volunteers read into the public domain works of literature. I am rather an Owen buff, so it was entertaining to hear the mp3.

I did not pick up a good science fiction paperback novel, magazine aside, and I think that I ought to do so, if ice does not intervene. We ate lentil soup at Tony's, where the proprietors are friendly and serve breakfast food, diner food, and Lebanese food. We bought a roasting thermometer, as ours was fried.

Last night we watched the film Little Miss Sunshine, which struck me as merely clever until the closing scenes, which struck me as very funny. We dined on excellent turkey/beef chili that will no doubt improve tonight with age. I love the comfort food nature of these brief bursts of winter.

If it were a warm April day, I'd fly a red kite.
abstract butterfly

dreaming about charlotte

The temperature hovered just above freezing, as the promised winter storm paused before its next round began. We'd cancelled dinner plans with friends in light of the threatened ice. We realized eventually, though, that any ice will harden much later, if at all. Winter in my childhood always worked that way--the narrow difference between 33 degrees and 31 degrees meant everything in terms of days off school and snowflake fun.

We made use of our freedom, by going to a late showing of "Charlotte's Web". It's a charming movie. This week I've had a lot of work demands, and two or three bouts of usefully-applied-but-nonetheless-sleepless insomnia. I slept through key portions of the movie, although it was not the sleep of the lost, but the sleep of someone who fades in and out, experiencing the movie as I slept. There are worse ways to watch a movie than in one's sleep.

Perhaps tomorrow we awake to ice. Perhaps tomorrow we awake to merely wet streets. We will take tomorrow with gratitude for whichever thing it brings to us, and then, if time permits, we'll take Monday and the succeeding days that way, too.