I forgot how depressing a scrubby brown strip of land can be. By all rights things should be falling down with calm greenness, the same way you fall into a lawn chair with a beer in your hand on summer evenings. Here, it’s not so much a falling down greenness as a green that desperately clings to a ledge even though its fingers are bleeding. Which is rather an abuse of the human capacity for metaphor.
Iowa was just fine. Nothing happened that made me think “hey I oughta blog this!” but there was a thunderstorm and tornado sirens, and I kept thinking the bathroom light switch at my parents’ house would be oriented in the same direction as my own, but it was orthogonal every time. A couple pictures of wildflowers will be up on the photoblog shortly, or maybe tomorrow. Here are some other things:
- I secretly want to vote for the Bloc Quebecois, what about you?
- My biggest, most outgrowingest of its cage tomato plant fell down, so I ate fried baby tomatoes for dinner tonight, with cactus and pesto. The plant will be just fine.
- In airports, I go from poking the idea of a new laptop with a 10 foot pole, to poking it with a short stick. Pretty soon I’ll be tickling it directly.
- Tillykke til Marty & Laura! – maybe I should finish reading his copy of Invisible Cities and mail it back as a wedding present…