(no subject)
Wednesday, July 5th, 2006 10:00 pmJuly 4, 2006 in the Washington, DC area, a heat advisory was in effect, meaning that we could expect the heat index to be somewhere between 100 and 105 degrees Fahrenheit. Meaning that it was, by any sane reckoning, too darn hot. So for the first time this summer, I dug through my dresser drawers and found a pair of shorts to wear, then proceeded to be too hot anyway.
Fortunately, Mother Nature decided to send us a cold front so we could have natural fireworks for Independence Day. Well before the official fireworks were to start, the National Mall was evacuated because of all the cloud-to-ground lightning in the area. After hearing that on the local news, I turned off the TV, sat on my bed facing the window, and enjoyed the show awhile. Every once in a while I'd look out my door instead of my window and I'd notice that my housemates' lights were sometimes on, sometimes off. Then after a while, the lights were just plain off.
I went downstairs to look out the front door and saw a squirrel, wet fur plastered to its back, struggling to stay on a tree with the wind trying to blow him down. It was not a fun time to be a squirrel.
After the storm, I went walking outside in the freshly chilled air reveling in the cool breeze blowing on my legs. Wasn't so thrilled by the mud and leaves spattering against my skin with every step I took in the puddled streets, but I got used to it eventually. Nobody had power around here. Traffic lights were off too, though drivers were surprisingly courteous to each other--and to us pedestrians too--for a change. Sections of a highway were blocked off because trees--and tree limbs which would have made respectable trees in their own right--were down on the road. A man nearby was trying to shove half a tree off his roof (that half-tree was still on the roof today). A local mall had some emergency power, but their stores had closed early for the holiday anyway.
Woke up at 6 in the morning to hear the landlady & a neighbor talking across the oddly silent street. Something about trees down, something about power elsewhere in town, something about the uselessness of the information people were getting from the power company. Later, the silence was broken by the sounds of chainsaws, construction equipment, and those generators people bought back in the aftermath ofHurricane Tropical Storm Isabel.
Boiled some water on the stove to be poured over the one teabag I had. The mug, a survivor of much microwaving, when filled with boiling water softly said "snick" and gave up the ghost. Well, the mug still looks intact from certain angles, but all water poured into it seeps back out again. After tea, I decided to make some mac & cheese from a box left behind by a former housemate, only to discover this warning label: "MICROWAVE ONLY (DO NOT ADD BOILING WATER)." I laughed, added the pasta to some boiling water, stirred a while, then introduced the "cheese" mix to some actual milk just to see what would happen. The fake foodstuff settled down and let me eat it eventually.
Began reading the Nicols Fox book Against the Machine: The Hidden Luddite Tradition in Literature, Art, and Individual Lives. Would have started the book last night, but the candle flickered too much for my eyes to focus.
In the mail, got notice that food stamps had been approved through November, with June's food stamps available to me already & July's available soon. I was positively giddy about this.
This afternoon, chatted with neighbors about the continuing lack of power, then walked to the public library, which was refreshingly open, well-lit, and air-conditioned. After a while, walked outside to call my landline. Phone rang and rang and rang. Drat. Went back in to read some more. Walked back out (it was raining then) to call my landline, which rang & rang & rang. Back inside, feeling more restless, back outside, called the landline, got the answering machine. Went to grocery store filled with joy and an urge to buy lots of fresh fruits & veggie burgers. Came home, read, got online, decided I needed tea and more fruit, and joyfully went to the grocery store again.
Walking home carrying a bag full of mango nectarines and a canary melon, I stopped to watch the Canada goslings, who are still noticeably fuzzier, smaller, and differently colored than their parents, but look more goose-shaped and more comfortable in their bodies than they did last time I saw them.
It's been a good day.
Fortunately, Mother Nature decided to send us a cold front so we could have natural fireworks for Independence Day. Well before the official fireworks were to start, the National Mall was evacuated because of all the cloud-to-ground lightning in the area. After hearing that on the local news, I turned off the TV, sat on my bed facing the window, and enjoyed the show awhile. Every once in a while I'd look out my door instead of my window and I'd notice that my housemates' lights were sometimes on, sometimes off. Then after a while, the lights were just plain off.
I went downstairs to look out the front door and saw a squirrel, wet fur plastered to its back, struggling to stay on a tree with the wind trying to blow him down. It was not a fun time to be a squirrel.
After the storm, I went walking outside in the freshly chilled air reveling in the cool breeze blowing on my legs. Wasn't so thrilled by the mud and leaves spattering against my skin with every step I took in the puddled streets, but I got used to it eventually. Nobody had power around here. Traffic lights were off too, though drivers were surprisingly courteous to each other--and to us pedestrians too--for a change. Sections of a highway were blocked off because trees--and tree limbs which would have made respectable trees in their own right--were down on the road. A man nearby was trying to shove half a tree off his roof (that half-tree was still on the roof today). A local mall had some emergency power, but their stores had closed early for the holiday anyway.
Woke up at 6 in the morning to hear the landlady & a neighbor talking across the oddly silent street. Something about trees down, something about power elsewhere in town, something about the uselessness of the information people were getting from the power company. Later, the silence was broken by the sounds of chainsaws, construction equipment, and those generators people bought back in the aftermath of
Boiled some water on the stove to be poured over the one teabag I had. The mug, a survivor of much microwaving, when filled with boiling water softly said "snick" and gave up the ghost. Well, the mug still looks intact from certain angles, but all water poured into it seeps back out again. After tea, I decided to make some mac & cheese from a box left behind by a former housemate, only to discover this warning label: "MICROWAVE ONLY (DO NOT ADD BOILING WATER)." I laughed, added the pasta to some boiling water, stirred a while, then introduced the "cheese" mix to some actual milk just to see what would happen. The fake foodstuff settled down and let me eat it eventually.
Began reading the Nicols Fox book Against the Machine: The Hidden Luddite Tradition in Literature, Art, and Individual Lives. Would have started the book last night, but the candle flickered too much for my eyes to focus.
In the mail, got notice that food stamps had been approved through November, with June's food stamps available to me already & July's available soon. I was positively giddy about this.
This afternoon, chatted with neighbors about the continuing lack of power, then walked to the public library, which was refreshingly open, well-lit, and air-conditioned. After a while, walked outside to call my landline. Phone rang and rang and rang. Drat. Went back in to read some more. Walked back out (it was raining then) to call my landline, which rang & rang & rang. Back inside, feeling more restless, back outside, called the landline, got the answering machine. Went to grocery store filled with joy and an urge to buy lots of fresh fruits & veggie burgers. Came home, read, got online, decided I needed tea and more fruit, and joyfully went to the grocery store again.
Walking home carrying a bag full of mango nectarines and a canary melon, I stopped to watch the Canada goslings, who are still noticeably fuzzier, smaller, and differently colored than their parents, but look more goose-shaped and more comfortable in their bodies than they did last time I saw them.
It's been a good day.
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