Daylight Savings time always feels like a new thing. On Monday, I felt like there was a storm coming when I left work, but it was just early ashy nighttime. Everything feels surprising lately. When I left work, I was standing there talking on my cell phone when this cat wedged its way between my legs and damn near gave me a heart attack. I went to the gym and pretended to do something. When I left, this man with a wolfish looking dog had left the door to his apartment open and out it came, sprinting at me, and whatever senses left intact by the cat-surprise were fried to smithereens. The weather can't make up its mind. We have a black man as president. Animals come out of nowhere. Surprises galore!
I am trying to make cheese at work which is harder than cheesemongers would have you believe. I only found out today that “cheemonger” is a real word. Also, you're not supposed to put two spaces after periods anymore. I think there should be a public bulletin board for new announcements like that so we all get them at the same time.
I am in the tug of war of time between sun and snow. My herbs died. It might have been the new pots, or the cold front that came through Colorado in October, and left us with 80 degree weather for a few days. I might have overwatered them or underwatered them. The sage, which had grown long and elf-ish, like suede-covered ears, was the first to go. Now it's curled and black around the edges, the leaves spin down to the ground when I pour water gently over it.
When I got my plants, I asked the plant lady if fertilizer was really necessary.
“Not giving your plants fertilizer is like your mom raising you on water and no food,” she said.
I guess everything needs additives.
My dad says this is the reddest fall he has ever seen. I keep running through carpets of crimson leaves and turning around to see the path I've cut through. I feel good, but I don't have health insurance yet. The underwriter, whose title is scary enough that I don't know if I should lie or tell the truth to her on the phone, says, “So, are your knees totally out of your own control?”
Yes. No. Maybe we control little besides looking back at whatever's still standing and whatever has fallen.