Yet Another Journal

Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans,
cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.


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» Thursday, April 23, 2009
Marching Through Georgia
It was immediately evident this morning that it was going to be a warm day. Sure enough, the temperature crept up slowly but surely. As the day progressed, I opened more windows and then turned on more fans. Work was leaving me slowly simmering as it was and the temperature didn't help. The one highlight of the day was burning the "roasted coffee" tealight I bought on Sunday. It doesn't have the strong scent of the cafè au lait, but it's very nice.

At six o'clock it was almost 80°F in the house. I threw in the towel and turned on the air conditioner.

By the time evening arrived, I was in a poisonous mood. I had planned to see if I could hitch a ride to the association meeting with Susan, but I didn't think I was fit company for anyone. By this time I didn't feel like eating much, so I had some ricotta and Wheat Thins, and drove myself to the city offices where the meeting would take place. James picked me up a baked potato on his way home from work and joined me there.

Another pathetic meeting. Six (including us) households showed up. Since we didn't have a quorum, we couldn't do anything. We discussed this year's problems, like finding a less-expensive landscaper to care for the front of the complex and the retaining pond, arranging a neighborhood watch, putting in a speed bump, etc. Then we arranged for another meeting. At the second meeting, we won't need a quorum and can vote on things.

It had been cloudy with the sky rumbling when I took Willow outside. Now as we started the meeting it began to thunder and rain. A short while later, before James even showed up, the tornado siren went off right outside the door to the meeting room. While we were there, it poured copiously, including several iterations of "Georgia Monsoon Season," there was one blast of thunder that sounded like a cannon going off, and we had some hail (at least there was hail in front of the complex, where James parked; I didn't see any when I left).

As I pulled out of the parking lot to head home, there was a blazing sunset to my left, and to my right it looked like all the Hounds of Hell were ready to descend on downtown Smyrna. I zigzagged through the streets (and the Walmart parking lot to avoid the dead light at Floyd Road) while watching a spectacular lightning show before me, including one triangle-shaped multi-strike. Whoa.

The storm soon passed over. We watched a complex Waking the Dead called "Walking on Water." I was musing last night about what would happen if you put Detective Superintendent Peter Boyd in the same room with Doctor Gregory House. Boyd would start bellowing and House's voice would get lower and more insulting. One wonders who would out-sarcastic the other. :-)

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