Monday, April 03, 2006
it’s 7:35, it's light, it’s spring; otherwise, not much happenin’
I do not create a bloggable life. Indeed, most days, like today, are outstanding in their blog-unworthiness.
I got up.
I dropped off car keys.
I worked.
I paid bills.
I mailed bills.
I scrambled eggs.
This takes me to 7:35 pm which, I believe is right now.
I did make one concession to Ocean while walking to the mailbox (with the bills). I detoured for half a block, just to see if men were fishing now that the ice was gone. Indeed, they were. And there were a few other signs of a Madison spring:
hark! it is the orange guy. you either love him or...not. He plays the piccolo. Constantly. Outside. Same tunes, year in, year out.
in my neighborhood, by the lake; a spring dance? no, a twosome at the hoop.
fishing by the RR tracks
I got up.
I dropped off car keys.
I worked.
I paid bills.
I mailed bills.
I scrambled eggs.
This takes me to 7:35 pm which, I believe is right now.
I did make one concession to Ocean while walking to the mailbox (with the bills). I detoured for half a block, just to see if men were fishing now that the ice was gone. Indeed, they were. And there were a few other signs of a Madison spring:
hark! it is the orange guy. you either love him or...not. He plays the piccolo. Constantly. Outside. Same tunes, year in, year out.
in my neighborhood, by the lake; a spring dance? no, a twosome at the hoop.
fishing by the RR tracks
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I like to think that I am an observant person but it took me a few years to notice the orange guy. One day a group of friends were talking and someone mentioned him. I was like: "What orange guy? Who are you talking about?" They were surprised that I hadn't noticed him because he is nearly always on Library Mall. I guess that I probably wouldn't make a good eye witness.
ReplyDeleteRemind me sometime to tell you about the R.C. Cola lady in D.C.