Monday, Monday. Jackhammers out front, trying to catch up with my brain, and expecting my internet to go out any second. New old house stuff continues, as today we get a new phone line dug. Apparently the last time it was done was when the house was remodeled, sometime near the year I was born… yeah. So, I shall enjoy a moment of time-wasting as I clear my ears from the sound of Driveway Destruction.
I try hard to avoid soda, but I love weird ones like this cucumber drink, which my mother gave me. Apparently someone gave it to her from a store called BevMo, previously Beverages And More, but those few extra syllables were JUST. TOO. HARD.
Since Tech Boy has now two jobs – one in the US and one in the UK (we are nothing if not happy with our dualities, apparently), I have a little extra time evenings on my own. Fortunately, there’s the Cybils which, at this time of year, means I have no free time anyway. Every year it seems such a decadent idea – books! Reading to my heart’s content with no interruptions! Because I have to! And then, when I see that I have to read one hundred forty-seven sixty-five two hundred and nine books between now and December 31st, decadent delight turns to, Aaaaaaaargh! Why did I say I’d do this again!?
(I need to photograph The Stack on my reading couch. Yes. I have a reading couch; what of it? Other people have eating tables and things… it makes perfect sense.)
We had thunder and a brief cloudburst on Thursday night, and I was at first convinced the sound was someone dragging their cans to the curb — until it sounded like herds of people drag-racing their cans around the block. It was so strange to hear the thunder rolling like a bowling ball bouncing down a lane. As it was explained to me, rolling thunder – as opposed to its more percussive explosion sounding cousin – sounds roll-y because it’s the result of cloud-to-cloud strikes. The sound differs because of the distance between clouds and the distances between US and the clouds – we hear the compression waves differently than we do for a cloud-to-earth, right-on-top-of-you strike. It’s like the difference between saying “Hello” in a crowded room and saying “Hello” over the Grand Canyon. More space, more room for sound to bounce. Anyway, it was really neat to even hear thunder – in our area of Scotland, heavy storms were not the norm. We’d have a real rattle-up periodically, but for the most part, the rain was just endless dampening – a middle-of-the-road, endless pattering. The dreich could be dispiriting, whilst an actual storm, with wind and hail and a real gullywasher bucketing down – those are rather exhilarating, and I’m looking forward to more of them, now that I don’t have to walk around in them!
Here’s this week’s Strange Discovery: it’s an Easter egg… which was stuck in a rose bush. We have a lot of roses which haven’t been well cared-for, so they’re growing out of control, out from the rootstock, etc. — it’s kind of a thorny mess. We’ve been systematically whacking them back, which is why it took us awhile to find this little bit of plastic wedged into the largest of the bushes. No, I am NOT opening it; I am saving it for Bean, since she feels brave. I’m sure it’s nothing but melted jelly beans and a puddle of chocolate egg… at least I hope it’s that benign. ::shudder::
BREAKING NEWS: Our possessions apparently will make it to a WAREHOUSE IN SF on Wednesday, at the latest. Hope springs eternal.
As for the Mr. Q. — it was a little sweet, a little fresh, and a lot cucumber-y. It was distinctly odd, in a good way.