|
Friday, November 01, 2002 Last night: no trick-or-treaters. (Sniffle.) Not that I made it easy for them. Went out for most of the evening, driving through the early darkness into Montpelier around 6 p.m. to see a film. The town turned out to be hopping, way more active than your normal weekday evening. It's a funny place, Montpelier -- a small town (population: around 8,000) situated at just the right place (a junction of two rivers, essentially midway between Boston and Quebec, between the Maine/N.H. coast and Lake Champlain), that it wound up becoming the capital of the state. Because of that, the population doubles between 9 and 5 on weekdays as people roll in to work in government offices, one or two major insurance companies and a bunch of small businesses. After 5 p.m., everyone goes home, the town quiets down, by 6 most businesses have closed, most store windows are dark, the streets are generally quiet. Not the case last night -- plenty of traffic, people in make-up and/or costumes wandering about, grown-ups accompanying little ones in mostly homemade outfits on the quest for sugary ca-ca. Kind of nice. The film: Lovely & Amazing. Lots of good, low-key acting, with a story that leans toward the depressing. Hmmmm. Back home, no evidence that anyone had come around seeking ca-ca. Of course, while I was gone I left no outside lights on -- it's dark out here, so it's possible any potential sugar-seekers would have had real difficulty finding their way to one of the doors. Could be frustrating. I found no indication of thwarted sugar lust -- no eggs, no chalk, no toilet-papered house, nothing. It's probable no one made the attempt out here in the cold and dark of the hill. The upshot: I now have a bowl of Reese's sticks that will slowly go stale, 'cause there's no way I'm eating all those buggers. Meanwhile, it's snowing outside. Welcome to November. Bleah. It's early. Time to pull myself together and head into town for the morning. Later. *********************** I got home last night around 8:30, in time to see the last 90 minutes of the original Twin Peaks film on TV. I'd forgotten how much fun that series was, and how far afield from the rest of the television programming of the time. A great synthesis of creepy, comic, dramatic, silly, surreal. Somewhere I have virtually all of it on videotape. I had, at some point, a copy of The Diary of Laura Palmer, which turned out to be so creepy I finally got rid of it. And I still have a cassette of the Dale Cooper tapes. I may have to hold my own mini-Twin-Peaks-Fest. Or not. We'll see. *********************** The snow let up mid-morning, no accumulation. About fifteen minutes ago, snow showers approached down the valley to the north, blotting out the view as it came. When they hit, it snowed like hell for a while. No accumulation, but real damn pretty, just like the ride in to town this morning. The view to the north has been mostly restored and is looking as alpine as one could ask -- low hanging clouds brushing the tops of the mountains, mist rising from the hollows between the ridges, some snow swirling around. I have some trouble getting my teeny little brain around the concept of snow on November 1, but there it is. rws 7:36 AM [+]
Comments:
Post a Comment
|