Today officially marks the half-way point of my summer vacation.
A plumber came by in the morning to fix the dilapidated network of pipes in my cellar. I celebrated the return of a functioning water system by taking a long shower, shaving, spiking my hair, and drinking a tall glass of Code Red poured from a freshly opened two liter bottle. Code Red is lightly carbonated and loses its fizz within a couple days after being opened. It's best to drink it fresh.
After eating lunch I took the dog (there is a distinct dissimilarity in referring to him as the dog as opposed to my dog, which tells you something about how I feel about the dog living in this house) for an afternoon walk. The heat that had been oppressing the northeast had subsided after a series of storms that came through on Thursday, leaving Friday and Saturday sunny and beautiful. I walked down past where Washington Road turns into Scott Road, a stretch of street lined with trees on both sides. We clipped along at an even pace.
When I returned I took time to water the plants around the house, refilling the small watering can several times to make sure the soil around the base of each of them was properly saturated. It'd be more efficient to use a larger watering can, perhaps, but I think there's a Zen-like quality to taking your time with a smaller one.
As the sunlight coming in through the windows began to dim I picked up the Saturday edition of The Wallstreet Journal and read an article by Lucette Lagnado, a Jewish expatriate from Cairo. Her family fled Egypt when Nasser came to power in 1954. She was writing about how she had recently returned to Cairo to see how much the place had changed. Apparently it had--a lot. Lagnado lamented how the city had lost its glamour and prestige since the demise of the colonial era and the exodus of its European population. It included pictures of street scenes in Cairo during the 1940's. Something about the article appealed to me.
When I finished reading it I thumbed through the rest of the newspaper. Nothing else caught my eye.
Then, as I was sipping the last drop of Code Red and beginning on a bottle of Snapple, it struck me to walk outside to take a few pictures of the scenery around my house before the sunlight became too faint. It was fitting, in a sense, to have something that would remind me of calm summer days in Connecticut. Just a token of a moment in time, and nothing more.
A plumber came by in the morning to fix the dilapidated network of pipes in my cellar. I celebrated the return of a functioning water system by taking a long shower, shaving, spiking my hair, and drinking a tall glass of Code Red poured from a freshly opened two liter bottle. Code Red is lightly carbonated and loses its fizz within a couple days after being opened. It's best to drink it fresh.
After eating lunch I took the dog (there is a distinct dissimilarity in referring to him as the dog as opposed to my dog, which tells you something about how I feel about the dog living in this house) for an afternoon walk. The heat that had been oppressing the northeast had subsided after a series of storms that came through on Thursday, leaving Friday and Saturday sunny and beautiful. I walked down past where Washington Road turns into Scott Road, a stretch of street lined with trees on both sides. We clipped along at an even pace.
When I returned I took time to water the plants around the house, refilling the small watering can several times to make sure the soil around the base of each of them was properly saturated. It'd be more efficient to use a larger watering can, perhaps, but I think there's a Zen-like quality to taking your time with a smaller one.
As the sunlight coming in through the windows began to dim I picked up the Saturday edition of The Wallstreet Journal and read an article by Lucette Lagnado, a Jewish expatriate from Cairo. Her family fled Egypt when Nasser came to power in 1954. She was writing about how she had recently returned to Cairo to see how much the place had changed. Apparently it had--a lot. Lagnado lamented how the city had lost its glamour and prestige since the demise of the colonial era and the exodus of its European population. It included pictures of street scenes in Cairo during the 1940's. Something about the article appealed to me.
When I finished reading it I thumbed through the rest of the newspaper. Nothing else caught my eye.
Then, as I was sipping the last drop of Code Red and beginning on a bottle of Snapple, it struck me to walk outside to take a few pictures of the scenery around my house before the sunlight became too faint. It was fitting, in a sense, to have something that would remind me of calm summer days in Connecticut. Just a token of a moment in time, and nothing more.