Tuesday, January 8, 2013

A Desert

That was the dive shop yesterday, a deserted wasteland of neoprene and me.  I had one customer, ONE, who came in to crow about his dives in Bonne Terre mine down in Missouri over the weekend (I love it when they come in and their faces are flushed with pleasure and excitement to tell me about their dives, love, it) and ask about changing the valves on his drysuit but he didn't buy anything.  Not one thing.  So I didn't have to recount the money when I took it out of the till since I hadn't put any in or made change.  I watched the Old Faithful geyser cam  (there were some buffalo & people ambling by but not together, no) and wondered how cold it was and how snowy it was and how quiet it was with the hissing and gurgling of the geothermal vents (because the sound seems to be off or broken, it's probably frozen), and knitted on an afghan square.  There were hardly even any phone calls to keep me awake.  And I need to stay awake because Mrs. Boss left me a note that we now have a security cam.  Evidently they need to keep an eye on me since we have no strangers, uh, customers in there to steal things.  (shrugs)  So no picking a grundie or my nose, or napping.  I just realized that I did sit on the floor and roll back to crack my back, then laid there for a couple minutes to straighten things out, and did it right in front of the camera.  Oh well.  Durwood asked if it was hooked up or just a decoy.  I seriously don't think that Mr. Boss the tech-head would ever not get some gadget and not make it work.  This is a man who pre-orders every new iteration of the iPhone and iPad that comes down the pike whether he needs one or not.  (I just opened another window so I could link the geyser cam up there and it was dark.  For a minute I wondered if it was turned off since it couldn't be dark out there since it's not dark here.  Oh wait, I'm not the center of the universe so it CAN be dark someplace not that far away when it's light here.  It's getting light there now.)  Today's Photo a Day theme is "something beginning with 't'" and I was kind of stumped.  I thought about it last night but couldn't come up with anything, then this morning when I reached up and turned the weekday calendar page and voila!  See, when Durwood retired from the Gillette Co. way back at the end of 1999 (holy crap!) he made himself a "day of the week" calendar because he said he wouldn't need to know more than that once he was a man of leisure.  It was kind of a joke but it sits on top of the fridge and I've long been in the habit of turning the page when I first get up in the morning and, look at that, today's day begins with a T.  It's Tuesday.  Hey, it's half-price admission week at the NEW Zoo.  I should go feed the giraffes.  Yeah, I should.  Wanna go too?  Anybody?  I should actually take a little of my stash money and buy myself a membership so I can go out and feed them at my leisure.  I'll bet that doesn't mean I can get in for free though, I'll have to check.  It does mean I can get in free and it's only $44 for a year.  That settles it, I'm buying one.  Look out, Hodari & Zuri, here I come.


January 8--John Henry Bradley Storrs, Forms in Space No. 1.  The sun glinted off the copper and silver skin of the Art Deco skyscraper.  Nola could feel the heat reflected back and the swirl of the wind as it buffeted the slick metal.  Somewhere in that building lay her future, she knew it.  She knew that she was meant to live and work here.  She had dreamed of it.  It had been so clear and vivid in her dream.  She stood near the curb looking up when a dark-haired man got out of a cab and ran right into her.  He caught her before she fell and she liked how his hands gripped her arms.

Meh.  I was really sleepy because I stayed up too late--again.  That's my excuse anyway.  Enjoy your day.  It's sunny here and it's supposed to get over freezing, just barely and it's supposed to be windy, but I'm going to knit and Skully's in a bit and I have a bag of stems to deliver to Henny & Penny so I'll be going now.  Toodle-oo.
--Barbara Sue

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