fractured reality

Last Friday, three large men from Carl’s Gentle Giants came to our house. At nine in the morning they began to pull everything we own out of our apartment and throw it into a truck. I had already moved the cat plus her neccessities to the house earlier that morning, so she was not underfoot nor substantially freaked out. Once filled, the truck was driven to the house and unloaded, and the whole thing was done by 11:30! Crazy. Quickest move ever.

Over the next few hours, we discovered the following: our phones were disconnected at the old apartment, but not the new house; our electricity hookup had been unscheduled somehow; and we had a gas leak at the riser from the supply line to our gauge in the basement. This last caused the gas company to shut off our line at the curb (which in itself was an adventure, since tree roots had bent the access sheath). We then had to call a DOT certified plumber to fix it. While fixing the riser, they unknowingly misplaced a gasket, so when the gas people came out again (this time at midnight, Saturday morning) they detected an even BIGGER gas leak. The plumber came out again and replaced the gasket, and by Saturday afternoon the gas company had us hooked up, and we finally had hot water, and a working oven.

As of this morning, the only thing missing is our DSL, which will hopefully be back up tomorrow. We’re still unpacking, and we still have a LOT of wallpaper stripping, wall painting, carpet removal and reflooring concerns, but at least the place is livable, private, and has a terrific view and lot. Plus, the sun room is ridiculously wonderful.

Onward! Limbs be damned!
E

One morning last week, I sat down to enjoy my (as of late) regular breakfast of decaffienated coffee and an English muffin with butter and plum jam. I was about halfway done with the first half when I chewed a tiny crunchy bit. No worries, portion of the muffin invariably get burnt during toasting, this part just was especially crunchy. The next bite, I crunched somethign decidedly bigger, and I stopped chewing. I then proceeded to fish out a sizable shard of glass from my mouth. Inspecting the remaining muffin, I found a nice big chunk of glass incorporated with the jam, it presence masked almost entirely by the fact that the jam was spread evenly on the muffin, and the fact that the glass was transparent and colorless.

I checked the jam jar and found more glass, but no actual chips in the jar’s walls or rim. Terrific. I then threw my remaining muffin away and finished my coffee.

Becca then reported it to their customer support center or some such, and they assure me that coupons for more glassy jam are on their way. Thanks, Knott’s Berry Farm!

Guh.

E

P.S. I cannot discount the idea that Chris Worth had sneaked into my apartment, and planter the shards to repay my kindness in feeding him herbal supplements that one time.

This morning, as has been the case for the last few work days, the valley was filled with a cloud that had wandered in over night. This means a few things to the worker bee who rides a vespa: it will be damp, it will be cold, and visibility will be low. On the other hand, it will be beautiful and ethereal.

It is unofficially Autumn, with the temperatures dropping and the air acquiring that specific feel. This Saturday past, I went for a hike at Munroe Falls, cooked out with Boca and Quorn, played the sequel to DonPachi, and celebrated my thirtieth birthday. I don’t really have a lot to reflect upon or to convey by way of words of wisdom right now*, and I don’t feel very strongly about become a Thirtysomething. It is a bit weird bidding farewell to my twenties. I suspect everyone’s twenties were a tumultuous time.

It was a lovely weekend, but there was no time for riding, what with the cooking (Sunday we made fondue x2), packing, gaming and such. Maybe I will steal a short ride after work today, who can say/

E

* That’s not exactly true. I have piles and piles of such words; I simply don’thave any I wish to impart right now, on this occasion.

I had previously been given instructions not to purchase any books until after we have moved, but when I read about this censoring twit and her book-banning grandmother, I was moved to buy a replacement copy and send it to the library in question. I think as long as I don’t have the book shipped to my address, I’ll remain in becca’s good graces.

This weekend, we must attend a house inspection, and pack, pack, pack. Also, if the weather is nice, we will hike. There will likely be no real time for the celebration of my thirtieth birthday, which is tomorrow, during which I will likely have no time to write about it.

E

Diligently train your ideals upward and still upward toward a summit where you will find your chiefest pleasure in conduct which, while contenting you, will be sure to confer benefits upon your neighbor and the community.

–Mark Twain, What Is Man?