The Middle of the Road

If you watch what people do, you'd think that traffic laws are pretty bizarre. For instance, I could swear that there's a law somewhere that says that you can park anywhere you like as long as your emergency flashers are on. This includes being able to block a whole lane of traffic in a snowstorm if you're visiting someone and can't find a parking space. Have your flashers on? You're parked! One of the most nerve-wracking, though, is "pedestrians have the right of way". Nobody seems to understand what this really means. Pedestrians think that it means they can do anything they want. Cross against the light? Sure! If someone almost hits you, well, just flip them an obscene gesture. You have the right of way. Stand in the middle of the road? Sure. Why not? If you have nothing better to do, cross the street halfway and then just stand there for a while. Streets are wide. It's exhausting to cross the whole thing at one go. And it's SUCH a long way to the corners. I have actually seen -- and MORE THAN ONCE! -- people doing handsprings down the middle of the street. There's an arrogance to people who do this that's really hard to stomach. Especially the high school kids who just walk into traffic in large groups, weaving in and out of moving cars. For a while, the city police were giving $200 tickets to the kids for jaywalking. Of course, as you might imagine, the parents put a stop to that really fast. I have to say -- crossing guards are annoying. But since they've all been let go due to budget cuts, I have to say that I miss them. At least there was SOME order in the chaos.

Wind Chimes

It's been very windy here. Nothing unusual for this area at this time of year, but this morning I was listening to a neighbor's wind chimes. They were almost playing a coherent tune. It reminded me of a musical instrument thought up by children: "It's like a glass jar full of safety pins, only you can play real tunes on it".
Wind chimes sound very different in winter. The lack of humidity makes the sound clearer, and I believe that wind direction and force is more favorable. It's really a shame that in summer when we spend more time outdoors, wind chimes don't sound as nice. The air gets heavy with heat and humidity and wind and breezes that could move the chimes are scarce. People are outside, there are lawns to be mowed, weeds to be whacked, and kids enjoy their freedom. In the winter, when there's a virtuoso wind chime performance going on with no distractions, we're all inside and don't get to hear it.
Every year I tell myself that I am going to get wind chimes of my own, but I don't. The only ones worth having are too pricey for me. It isn't worth it to buy something that's only going to fall apart after you've gone to the trouble to put it up. Today, I am thinking about it again. And thinking about spending more time outdoors. To listen to the chimes.

An Increment of Time (?)

Yesterday, I was using the web site of our Recorder of Deeds. A message came up telling me that what I had requested may take "a few moments".
All right. I can handle "moment" in the singular. It is an indefinite increment of time - a "brief period", according to the Concise Oxford. Fine. But to put a plural on that? How can you pluralize the indefinite? How do you know whether there has been more than one moment? If someone said, okay, a moment = 90 seconds, then you'd have a rough idea of how much time "a few moments" might be.
Of course, using that reasoning, I suppose I need to lodge an objection to "one moment, please", because this implies that there can be more than one moment and that the same waiting period would involve more than one moment instead of a long moment.
I'd continue this, but I've lost momentum.

About The Avatar

Yes, I have chosen a very odd avatar. Thanksgiving traditions in our family are very different. We don't usually have the turkey dinner on Thursday. Thanksgiving was always when my dad would close up the shore, and my brother went to his wife's family, so my mom and I were usually left to our own devices and we would have our family turkey dinner on Sunday.

The first year, I remembered a line from a sitcom. I can't for the life of me remember which one, and couldn't then, but someone was talking about having a meatloaf for Thanksgiving. Molded into the shape of a turkey. Like that was the most pitiful thing ever. As a joke, I decided to do this. My mother thought it was fantastic, and I've done that every year since. Even though we no longer close the place at the shore. My mom still always begs for the drumstick.

Ten years ago, my mom had a heart attack and I inherited the Sunday family turkey dinner as well. Thanksgiving became my favorite holiday. When you love to cook, that's the ultimate. And I'd get to do two meals - the meatloaf and the actual turkey.

This year, I've been fired. My niece is allergic to cats and my sister-in-law decided that she can no longer come to my house or to my mother's. I'll still do the meatloaf for my mom on Thursday, but I'll always miss the turkey.

Childhood

Watching Mad Men from the beginning. Finding it very thought-provoking. I remember some of that time. My dad traveled a lot. At first, I remember we took him to the airport, and my mom would cry. People would have us over for dinner because my mom was alone. Eventually, we stopped taking him to the airport. And my mom stopped crying. And either the invitations stopped coming, or we didn't go. My mom was left alone during some real crises - the Hurricane Agnes flood in 1972, for example. She learned to handle things.
The periodic absences of my father really had an impact on the family. He would sometimes be away over a birthday and send me a telegram. As my brother and I got older, it seemed there was more and more to catch him up on when he came home.
He always reminded me of the Rocket Man in the Ray Bradbury story. When he was home, he wanted to be traveling. When he was traveling, he wanted to be home.
Postcards, letters and telegrams aren't the same thing as watching your children grow up. Producing presents from your suitcase doesn't make up the time you've lost.
I'm not sure which trip was the "one too many" that pushed my mom to take on both roles, but she's still a very strong, independent woman. And sometimes, that's not ideal. Now that Dad's semi-retired, she's having to learn to actually live with him,and it isn't easy.
Strange how a television show can bring all of this stuff to the surface....

Evening At Giant - A Play in 3 Acts

Who knew going to the grocery store could be so stressful?
Act 1: I was following a guy down an aisle when a woman comes up to him, accuses him of avoiding her, and demands money. Not sure what it was about - I suspect it was some kind of child support thing. I managed to get past them, and moved on with my shopping.
Act 2: A domestic that I suspect was over a cell phone - I don't remember a whole lot of the details to that. It was very loud and occasionally profane.
Act 3: I was taking my cart out to the car through the vestibule and I hear yelling. There was a group of mostly Asian kids standing outside. Two of them were store employees. They weren't causing trouble. A woman was standing there screaming at them that they should go back to their f---ing countries and stop taking all of our jobs. And if they want to be here, they should speak the f---ing language and on and on. Her husband finally pulled her away. One of the kids was recording the incident on his cell phone - good thinking. That's the kind of woman who would claim the kids attacked her. I was afraid to go out there - I was really afraid that they'd think I agreed with her because I'm white. This is why kids turn to drugs and gangs. People like her who let them know that's what's expected. If you're going to shop in a neighborhood of mostly Hispanics and Asians, you should EXPECT them to speak other languages. It's like going to Chinatown in any US city and expecting to see all of the signs in English. I thought diversity was what this country is all about. Isn't it?

The Recipe

Ingredients: One 8-9 lb cat named Marshall who likes little rituals and routines. One neighbor who is deaf, and her VERY extended family (4 generations - between 3 and 8 people living there at any one time and they own at least four cars). Certain days the street cleaner comes -- if you're parked on that side of the street, you get a ticket. One kitty-gym scratching post by my front door. One front door comprised of 36 panes of glass.

I go home for lunch almost every day. It's a nice break from the office, and I get to spend some time with my cats. It's easier to park out front, so at lunchtime I enter and leave through the front door.

Marshall likes to jump up on the kitty-gym scratching post when I'm leaving - I call it "the kissy-place". If I tell him to go to the kissy-place, he jumps up for his kiss goodbye.

Last week, all of these things collided like the story of the Old Woman and her Pig. I was home for lunch and was ready to go back to work. I told Marshall to go to the kissy place. Just as he was jumping up, the deaf woman next door burst out of her house screaming at the top of her lungs - members of her family were outside and she wanted them to move their cars because the street cleaner was coming. That scared the life out of Marshall, who decided the kissy place was not such a great idea and went the opposite way. Through my feet. In order not to snap him in half and perhaps fall into/through 36 panes of glass, I elected to take a dive sideways onto my lounge chair. That gave my ankle one of the better twists I've had in a while. So tomorrow I get to see an orthopedic surgeon.

No moral, no point. Just seeing if I could put this story together coherently.