I have watched far too many World Cup games during the course of these last three weeks. Far, far too many. And today, while watching the Portuguese team go down before the play of the French squad and some pretty poor officiating, that each team I started out rooting for or wound up cheering on, has gone belly up. Brazil, Spain, Australia, Ecuador, Portugal, Mexico -- all of 'em. It's got me feeling a bit like the Typhoid Mary of this year's version of the Cup.
Not that any of that should matter to anyone outside of my personal sphere -- a fairly small, exclusive sphere these days, mostly consisting of, er, me -- but there it is.
So.
July. Montpelier is flooded with tourist folk, with people on vacation, walking around in summer togs checking out what there is to see. (Not a whole lot in a certain way, given the size of the town, but it's a small place gifted with an inordinate amount of charm which provides some mileage to the being-in-Montpelier experience.) The rain/gray skies/etc. that's been a far too prominent aspect of local life since late April has become less the rule. Which has allowed summer to blossom during this last week. Rain and gray skies still come and go, but it's a whole lot more tolerable when balanced out with spells of lovely weather. Though one can never be sure when conditions will become real damp real suddenly. For instance: this last weekend, me standing out amid happy warm weather greenery, soaking up some sunlight, enjoying the view up the valley. Out of nowhere the blue sky overhead suddenly opened up, rain poured down for about sixty seconds. There were some clouds off to the south that looked like the kind that might heap that kind of abuse on the humans below, but they were off to the south. Well off to the south. Nowhere near close enough to piddle all over me and my neighbors. Makes you wonder.
Ah, well -- into each life a little blah blah blah.
España, te echo de menos.
rws 7:59 PM [+]
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