The
less to be done, the less gets done.
R.
Will 2014
Soaking in the hot spring, thinking
(but doing nothing) about taxes, contemplating sunrises, and bonding with the
landlady’s dog and cat consume many hours and the bulk of psychic energy I can
comfortably expend. Blogging suffers.
M. Nature continues to confuse and confound.
Two weeks ago at the hot spring the temp was -4F, making the barefoot 20-yard
walk from the changing room to the small hot pool approximate the longest mile.
I bought snowshoes, and after getting
stuck (despite 4-wheel drive) on the dirt road leading to my cabin (which
required an excruciating “by-hand” dig out), I acquired 10 60-lb sacks of sand
to ballast my truck. Within 24-hours the temp skyrocketed – today it will top
50F – a virtual tropical heat wave for Paradise Valley. Rain is contemplated,
RAIN!, a phenomenon normally encountered hereabouts only during the nominal spring/summer/autumn
period from 1 July to 12 August.
And as I type, Washington, D. C. is
shuttered in anticipation of 6-12” of frozen precip. Go figure. Once again, for
the benefit of my eastern neighbors, I reproduce the Rockies snow depth chart:
>6” flurries
6-12” dusting
12-18” covering
12-24” snow
>24” dump
##########
I can almost hear the groans whenever
I venture into political thickets, which currently have grown to tropical rain
forest proportions. One telling observation: FOX (no one else of course) has
taken to running video clips of Senator Obama then and President Obama now, in
his own words, as it were. The contrast is absolutely stunning. Acts of the
former Administration then deemed marginally treasonable are now trumped by
events of darker color and deeper hue. It’s a bit different to be piloting the
craft than lounging in the parlor car sipping champagne.
##########
Contemplating a trip to the City of
Light (not, as often mischaracterized, “lights.”) April (in stark contrast to
the song) is perhaps the most miserable month, when invariably M. Nature tosses
a few rays of sunshine at the locals then dumps scads of freezing rain and
howling wind that morphs hope to despair and turns the surly to churlish on
steroids.
And literally as I am typing (I’m
really not making this up) an e-mail from a longtime acquaintance informs me
that a family member has been banished by his firm to Philadelphia! for
3 months and his apartment is available from May through July. Be still my
heart. Film at 11…
