Showing posts from April, 2006

Night Air

The night air is terribly refreshing and, best of all, it doesn't stink of the endless odor of cars and buses and idiotic construction along the road because not a lot of people want to drive peering around into the sinister darkness for Costco or PCC or Whole Foods or wherever they want to go, plus most pedestrians of daylight are already snoozing, reading, or torturing a nearby poodle.

I stuck my head out the window (literally speaking, I stuck my nose onto the screen) and took a deep breath of the night air. I like looking out on our serene backyard, without the wild shrieks of K and the sarcastic voice of A and the laughs of J ringing in my ears. The old maple does look somewhat more like a huge body rising out from a bog at night, yes, I admit, and the shed looks more like some kind of horrible house of doom instead of a moldy shed, but the air is still really refreshing. To my face at least.

My feet are still sore.

Houses are things that can be sold, destroyed, remodeled, and bought, but lately Adrianna and I have grown attatched to one in particular.

Our Redmond house on Education Hill, a steeply curved mountain-like thing which requires a long, arduous, and sweaty journey to make it to at least 87th, is not exactly a beautiful or luxurious house; it is a somewhat strange light green color and has no car garage, just a garage with two ugly and uneccessary windows in the front. In any case, if you wanted, you could smash into them and drive over our treasure-trove of beheaded Barbies and styrafoam castles.

The backyard has been visited by a number of raccoons, dogs, cats, bees, and most lately, birds which are flying in through the vent in the wall, who always find it pleasant to leave a few droppings and flee. After it rains it's wet, mushy, and muddy, and the ground feels somewhat like a concoction of soggy cornflakes, but at least it's better than a bunch of green grass which keeps th…

The Horrific Cooking At An Anonymous School

I was horrified when I recieved my share of pesticide-covered apples, fatally over-salted pretzels, and a bland hamburger at R.E., and I was even more disgusted when I tasted them.

"Good food does not fill you up" is a pretty accurate saying. Bad food, like that, did fill me up. With stuff sloshing around in my stomach.