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In which Rolanni goes to the devil
May I just say? That when I accompanied Steve to his cardiologist appointment this morning, I did not expect to spend. . .a significant part of the hour talking with the doctor about unhappy doglets.
So! The day started much too early, as will tomorrow, because we decided that we must, indeed, go see the house at Archers Old Orchard Beach. This will mean, among other pleasant things, that Steve will drive and I will give my hands a day off, which they really, really need.
Today, the Early Adventure was, as above, the cardiologist, after which we betook ourselves to CVS in order to receive our shingles shots and to pick up a few things, including a prescription. Thence, to the post office inside of a brilliantly sunny and very, very windy day.
How windy was it? you ask. It was so windy that there were at least a dozen dust devils playing gritty tag with each other in the post office parking lot. Dust devils (or, in season, snow devils) are itty-bitty little tornadoes that pick up dust and grit and paper trash (and snow). Sometimes, they get big enough to loft quite sizeable pebbles and pine cones and such. Rarely, they get big enough to flip over a mobile home. They're extremely localized, though, again, you might occasionally see one walking down the street, paper fluttering around it like long white sleeves.
Anyhow, these today were of the itty-bitty variety; not really up to anything more than grit, and there were, as I said, quite a number of them, which I played dodge with on my way across the parking lot to the post office.
On the return trip, I was hurrying, and failed to see the devil until I had actually stepped inside of it.
One of the weirdest, coolest feelings of my life.
First step, it got A WHOLE LOT WINDIER than it had been just a step back, and a ton of sand was thrown in my face.
Second step, there was absolute stillness; a complete absence of grit, and movement that was startling and a little scary while also being. . .enchanting.
Third step, REALLY WINDY with GRIT.
Fourth step -- I'm out.
. . .I kinda wanna do that again. . .
The rest of the errands were accomplished with verve if not actual style. We have eaten a very early lunch indeed, and it's now time to get to work, even though the cats are whispering, "sleep. . .sleep. . ."
This is a picture of Trooper right before he shoved all those papers, and the book he's leaning on, off the desk and onto the floor, so he could stretch out.
no subject
You are, thereby, a fortunate woman. It's the current tempest in scifi's teapot, somewhat nastier and more demented on all sides than usual. It's spilled over into the Real World sufficiently that its come to the attention of people like Steve's cardiologist, who is a RAH-head from 'way back, and a casual reader of science fiction, but not in the community. He does, however, read the Wall Street Journal.
Sad Puppies and unhappy doglets
Re: Sad Puppies and unhappy doglets
For a few moments, I thought you were speaking of actual juvenile canines ....
Re: Sad Puppies and unhappy doglets