Pocketa pocketa.

It's spring! Yesterday that meant blazing sun and the continual awareness that at any moment one's sunscreen might expire leading to one's nose peeling off one's face. Today it is firmly in the April Showers mode.

I had been planning on walking down to campus for the couple of student meetings I have scheduled in the afternoon, but I think I may be weak and drive. Normally in fact I would much rather walk, because cars are a lot of trouble and require parking, while walking is equipment free and makes me feel wholesome, but in light of the copious walking I've fit into my schedule already this week and my desire to run the incredibly exciting errand of buying more hand towels, as well as the rain pissing down on the just and the unjust alike, driving has an unusual appeal.

Our car is entirely the least exciting car you can imagine, an oldish grey Honda Accord with a dent in the side from an incident before we fully grasped the idiosyncrasies of our current very narrow driveway. Its name is Walter Mitty, after the James Thurber story about the dashing fantasies of a meek office worker, because we like to imagine that the Honda, too, has a rich inner life.

I'm not sure whether I think it is more likely that it imagines itself to be something like this

...which disappointingly calls itself a "roadable aircraft" instead of a "flying car," or like this

...with gangsters hanging out the back. Probably both, and this, too.

I certainly hope so, anyway.

+

The sunny weather that is now but a memory was well timed to correspond to the part of the week when Steve's parents were in town. Their visit inspired an unusual burst of activity, with trips to the botanical gardens and brunching out and long walks and other grandparentish adventures.

Now they have returned home and this infant has entered a state of near-complete hibernation. She will deign to rouse herself minimally to suckle, then emits a tiny sigh and falls back asleep immediately. I am certainly not complaining as it is both handy and aesthetically pleasing (her little mouth hangs open in an especially fetching way), but I wonder what all her energy is going to. I suspect that at the end of the day her eyes will suddenly pop open and she will scream like a banshee, shit her pants, and grow an inch all in the span of forty-five seconds.

I see that this post didn't turn out to be much about anything in particular, but such is my exciting life. Here, have a picture of a cat, to round things off.

Comments

[The Modesto Kid]

We have April showers over here too. But the colors!