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: the time has come, the walrus said
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We'll be living in an apartment with no internet for two weeks after we move up to Pittsford. My connection in that time will most likely be me taking the laptop to the public library to check my mail and such. It seems farcical to expect that I'll be able to read LJ in that time -- it takes hours each day to plow through my FL -- so I won't be keeping up. I'll maybe be seeing some journals or some entries in that time, and maybe posting and commenting here and there, but at this point I'm expecting something like radio silence.
Tomorrow is the last day for me to pack boxes that I don't want the movers to sock away. Monday, they'll start boxing things up. Perhaps this is just my general feeling of hopelessness speaking, but I guess I might as well just get an early start on the black hole and give up on LJ now, and get back on track later by the simple expedient of pretending that the intervening weeks never happened.
I hope nobody will evaluate my performance in those weeks and decide to drop me because I've been incommunicado. Remember, if you friend somebody, let them go, and if they come back, yatta yatta yatta.
Meanwhile, we've been doing some stuff "for the last time," as it were. We finally nipped up to Brattleboro, which is one heck of a sweet place -- lots of neat old brick buildings perched on sloping streets, and several book stores. The proprietor of the first one I dashed into said there had been nine at one point. I guess that means there are eight or fewer now. I've wanted to go up there and spend some money since I learned about their jihad against Bush and Cheney. While we were at it, we also ducked into New Hampshire for about fifteen minutes so we could add it to our list of states we've been in. Then I played miniature golf with Sarah at the course in Westfield, which is open for the season again, and we finished the day with what might be our last meal at Oishi Sushi, and our (possibly) last visit with Mr. Dong, who Sarah adores.
Today we drove to Boston. First we stopped at Radio Shack, where the kindly and knowledgeable fellow inside had opened the store ten minutes early, to replace the stubbornly missing car plug-in for the DVD player we got to keep Sarah pacified on trips. The obvious unit cost $35, but he located one for $9, and found the proper tip for another buck. Knowledgeable and kindly both. We proceeded along 90, exited and made our way to Alewife and took the T to South Station and walked to the Children's Museum, which was insanely full of great stuff for Sarah. After about three hours of it, they were starting to close the place up and we left, pausing for our second meal at the station. The trip home was marred only by a fresh side scuff from some adjacent car in the parking garage and the mysterious intersection where two lanes of traffic pouring into one road apparently get green lights at the same moment.
So ends the week of Spring vacation. Well, it's still on tomorrow, but it's going to be boxes, boxes, boxes, and not so much of the non-box activities, so it sort of feels like it's over. Just about time to dive down the rabbit hole. Speaking of which, I found out what the holes in the back yard are for: ground squirrels disappear into them. Better that than snakes, I guess.
If anybody needs to reach me and doesn't have my current address, I believe LJ messages should get to me. Dig you cats later.
.
.
We'll be living in an apartment with no internet for two weeks after we move up to Pittsford. My connection in that time will most likely be me taking the laptop to the public library to check my mail and such. It seems farcical to expect that I'll be able to read LJ in that time -- it takes hours each day to plow through my FL -- so I won't be keeping up. I'll maybe be seeing some journals or some entries in that time, and maybe posting and commenting here and there, but at this point I'm expecting something like radio silence.
Tomorrow is the last day for me to pack boxes that I don't want the movers to sock away. Monday, they'll start boxing things up. Perhaps this is just my general feeling of hopelessness speaking, but I guess I might as well just get an early start on the black hole and give up on LJ now, and get back on track later by the simple expedient of pretending that the intervening weeks never happened.
I hope nobody will evaluate my performance in those weeks and decide to drop me because I've been incommunicado. Remember, if you friend somebody, let them go, and if they come back, yatta yatta yatta.
Meanwhile, we've been doing some stuff "for the last time," as it were. We finally nipped up to Brattleboro, which is one heck of a sweet place -- lots of neat old brick buildings perched on sloping streets, and several book stores. The proprietor of the first one I dashed into said there had been nine at one point. I guess that means there are eight or fewer now. I've wanted to go up there and spend some money since I learned about their jihad against Bush and Cheney. While we were at it, we also ducked into New Hampshire for about fifteen minutes so we could add it to our list of states we've been in. Then I played miniature golf with Sarah at the course in Westfield, which is open for the season again, and we finished the day with what might be our last meal at Oishi Sushi, and our (possibly) last visit with Mr. Dong, who Sarah adores.
Today we drove to Boston. First we stopped at Radio Shack, where the kindly and knowledgeable fellow inside had opened the store ten minutes early, to replace the stubbornly missing car plug-in for the DVD player we got to keep Sarah pacified on trips. The obvious unit cost $35, but he located one for $9, and found the proper tip for another buck. Knowledgeable and kindly both. We proceeded along 90, exited and made our way to Alewife and took the T to South Station and walked to the Children's Museum, which was insanely full of great stuff for Sarah. After about three hours of it, they were starting to close the place up and we left, pausing for our second meal at the station. The trip home was marred only by a fresh side scuff from some adjacent car in the parking garage and the mysterious intersection where two lanes of traffic pouring into one road apparently get green lights at the same moment.
So ends the week of Spring vacation. Well, it's still on tomorrow, but it's going to be boxes, boxes, boxes, and not so much of the non-box activities, so it sort of feels like it's over. Just about time to dive down the rabbit hole. Speaking of which, I found out what the holes in the back yard are for: ground squirrels disappear into them. Better that than snakes, I guess.
If anybody needs to reach me and doesn't have my current address, I believe LJ messages should get to me. Dig you cats later.
.