Cold weather provided a preview of the season to come this last weekend, at least in these parts. Mostly gray, temperature remaining low during the day, dipping down to the freezing mark or slightly below at night. Cold enough that all the potted flowering plants went into the garage for a couple of days, the tomato plants got covered with big plastic black garbage baggies to ward off nighttime frost. Cold enough that yesterday I had to fire up the coal stove for the first time this season. (There is something so nice about coming in from the cold air into a warm house. By the way -- the temperature outside the dining room window this morning at 8 a.m.: 30 degrees.)
Conditions have warmed back up, all the plants are out of the garage, soaking up September sunlight.
In Montpelier, a breeze moved through trees, leaves drifted through the air and skittered along streets, sidewalks, parking lots. The seasons have moved on, no mistake about it.
Meanwhile, forgetting about weather and black plastic garbage baggies for a while, a San Diegan named Jessica recently took out an email account, apparently with an address very similar to this page's email address (runswithscissors at gmail dot blahblahblah). Only she seems to be under the impression that she actually has this page's email address. Meaning mail for her has begun showing up here. This well-intentioned soul has spent recent evenings cruising around the cyber universe, registering with one website after another, resulting in a growing flood of email from many businesses (Syence Skin Care, HowToFixComputers.com, OralCare.com, Club Kaboom, EatPoo.com and more) which are delighted at having her as a participant/customer/live one. Which has been an interesting study and a fine, harmless example of the universe's madcap sense of humor.
Each of the happy commercial entities gets sent a short note letting them know Jessica has made an error, asking them to remove this page from their records/mailing list. (So far so good -- most have not sent follow-up mail.) I would send Ms. J. a good-natured notice apprising her of the situation, except that it would wind up back here about three seconds after send-off. I managed to get what apparently is her street address and have sent a short note via snailmail. We'll see what happens.
In the meantime, I get to learn a little bit more about her tastes/interests every time she registers somewhere new.
This life of ours: packed with strange, unexpected entertainment.
(And speaking of strange entertainment: crop circle beer.)
Madrid, te echo de menos.
rws 4:48 PM [+]
Comments:
Post a Comment