You're Doing It Wrong

Bob thought it would be funny if we went to a bookstore this evening and said we wanted to buy Middlemarch. Should I be juvenile and admit that I already read all the spoilers online? (For historical purposes I’ll mention it’s Harry Potter VII day and also that as I write this it is before the official release time and Wikipedia has the whole summary up. What a world.)

We just talked to our neighbor and more info on the big crash. It wasn’t a motorcycle, it was an SUV and the driver ran away from the scene. Our neighbor heard it and went down there and when he saw the carnage he rang the doorbell of the house. After a long while a lady opened the door and said, “Are you the driver?”

He’s standing there in his jammies with bedhead and he says, “No, I’m not the driver.”

He looked in the car to find the driver but didn’t see anyone. Then he started looking around in the bushes. The first cop arrived and said, “Are you the driver?” and he said, “No, I’m not the driver. I’m looking for the driver.”

They looked around and then the firetruck came and they have some sort of thermal search device (How James Bond, I had no idea your everyday down the street emergency crew had stuff like that.) and finally, the lady from across the street came out and said, “By the way, after the accident, the driver ran that way.”

Our neighbor hadn’t heard anything else but since the other neighbor heard he was taken away in handcuffs, my guess is that they tracked him down. Unrelated but on the same day, on the other side of town, there was a big standoff with a gunman and SWAT teams, etc. Not a regular occurrence around here and the local news is gummed up with that and nothing about Mr. Speedie who missed the turn and crashed through landscaping and rolled over a poor innocent parked car.

The photo is from the men’s room at the office. Apparently there is a room other than the bathroom part that is the “sprinkler room.” I still think it’s funny.

Last night Bob went to bed really early and crashed hard. When I went to bed he was sleeping on my side.

“Hey Hon, you’re on my side,” I said.

From the way he grunted without even twitching a muscle, I knew he couldn’t be moved. I crawled in on his side favoring the middle and crashed hard myself.

I vaguely remember waking in the night and I was still mostly in the middle but Bob had gotten up and crawled back in on his side and was hugging the edge.

When I woke in the morning I was totally on my side and he was gone.

I think it’s funny that people pick a side and stick with it. (I’m assuming this is true, any couples out there regularly switch sides?) And it feels funny to be on his side. Like if I wasn’t so tired I might not fall asleep.

I don’t know what to do with myself this afternoon. We ran some errands this morning. I’d like to putter in the yard but it’s raining a little too hard for that. I don’t mind a drizzle but this is heavier than a drizzle. It’s not like I don’t have a million other things to do.

The carnage was still there when I got home tonight so I went down to take photos. I could not see the full damage to the car this morning so my jaw hit the ground when I saw this.

A police car drove up right then and the resident was sitting on the porch but I was too embarrassed to ask questions. Another neighbor said he heard the guy was taken away in handcuffs. Wow.

Most of my photos turned out blurry. I’m the worst photographer ever. Here’s the view from our street. You can see the rock wall ruined. (Also you can click on the photos if you want a larger view.)

This is the car. Look how far it is away from the curb. Yikes.

Last night I got up around 3am for the regular middle of the night stretch. I was about 3/4ths of the way back to sleep when I heard a loud engine zooming down the street. I like the windows open in the summer and the bedroom is in the front of the house. I guessed it was a speeding motorcycle and about the time I was thinking, “What a moron,” I heard: THUMP SKID CRASH.

This was way down the street and I wondered if I should do anything. About 10 minutes later I could see a reflection from flashing lights on the wall and I thought I heard voices and that deep rattle-y sound that a firetruck makes when it idles and I drifted off to sleep.

This morning when I took off for work I looked around for evidence of a crash. A number of years ago the cops were chasing a car late at night and he tried to turn onto our street and lost control and took the turn way too wide, smashed a car on the far side of the street, bounced across and hit a huge truck on the driving side of the street and then spun back across and clipped another car before crashing into a giant bush in a neighbor’s yard. It was very exciting. The police siren kept blaring and all the neighbors got up and stood out in the street in their slippers and bathrobes and watched. Our neighbor across the street, Olivia, was a senior in high school and she came and asked, “Does anyone know? Was it some kids?”

Just so you don’t get the wrong idea, we actually live in a nice neighborhood. Not nice like McMansions and fancy homes but nice like, small mostly well kept homes where lots of teachers and people with small children live. It’s not a like a suburban development. Well, maybe you could argue it is, but the 1940’s version. What do I know, I’m not an urban planning expert.

Back to last night’s crash: at first I didn’t see anything. When I got to the end of the street I saw the problem. Mr. Speedy hadn’t been able to make the turn. The street ends at a T and you have to do a slight left and then right (is that what they call a dogleg?) to follow on the other side of the cross street. Mr. Speedy went diagonally through the landscaping of the house at the end, went up and tore apart a little rock wall, through a giant shrub then in a shower of dirt apparently caught some air and landed on a compact car parked on the street before bouncing off and hitting the street. That must have hurt.

Yesterday I alternated between my grant writing stuff and the giant pile of weeds-soon-too-be-seeds in my backyard. I also read almost everything in my misc. reading pile which is magazines, articles and pamphlets that pile up.

Did I say I was taking a grant writing class? Tonight is class 2 and I’ve been going through the class materials and working on my practice grant. I now understand why it takes so long to write a grant. I don’t have actual data for my practice grant so I’m just working as if I did and even with making up data I barely made a dent in my statement of purpose and objectives and methodology.

Meanwhile, did you hear talk about another X-Files movie?

Don’t get me wrong. I loved X-Files. I’ve been tempted to go back and watch the first three seasons on DVD except I always have so many other shows to watch. I loved the first movie. I’m just wondering how many people like me even give a fart about X-Files these days.

I’m on my way out the door to class right now.

On Thursday night we had an amazing thunder storm. I was just getting into bed to read and all the windows were open. I heard some rumbling and got up to look out the bedroom window and saw a huge flash of light in the sky. I turned out the lights and watched for almost a half hour. I kept thinking, “One more good one, and then I’ll read my book.” Then I’d want to see more.

We don’t get many storms like that here. One of my neighbors had their window open and every time there was a big flash I could hear a big, “OOH!”

At the same time the sky opened up and it rained like crazy. Sadly I had spent a good amount of time watering everything thoroughly so it all got a double dose. I took last night off from watering and it’s hot today so I’m sure my garden is crying about now. I’ve got to get out there and photograph the pumpkins. I put pumpkins in the front this year as well as the back and the plants in the very front of the house are going gangbusters. There’s a pumpkin bigger than a softball sitting in the middle of a shrub. I hope no bad kids wander by and take it for entertainment purposes.

I’m taking a grant writing class and I’m going to do my homework now. I decided to make tomorrow a no computer day and free myself from this beast (that I love and want to sit at all day long).

Oof. Very busy week with lots of personal growth activities which I won’t go into details at this time.

This is the Klamath River at Dolan’s. Among my favorite spots to walk when I’m in Orleans.

Today’s commute (back at home, Portland to Vancouver) is our first entry in the worst cl*sterf#k summer commute day contest. 86 minutes from the time I left the parking garage to the time I pulled into the driveway. The drive is 11.5 miles so by my, understandably limited comprehension of math, that’s about a 7.5 minute mile. I run an 11 minute mile on a good day so I couldn’t have beat that on foot. But somewhere, someone could have. Even the carpool lane was backed up.

I have a class all day tomorrow and a goodly portion of my Saturday is booked as well.

Riveting posts will most likely few and far between. Go read a book, instead.

One of the things I like about my job is that I only do it at work. Once I leave the office I don’t think about work or worry or check-in or anything.

I’ve been holding my magical post vacation super-relaxed feeling right up until the moment when I sat down at my desk and saw the piles of stuff and notes I left myself for things that need to be taken care of this week. AGH!

So I have one quick story before I dig into it.

Our building was purchased and the management changed and they’ve been doing all sorts of renovations. Carpet and light fixtures were replaced and the walls painted and they’ve been replacing signs.

This morning I noticed a new sign in the hall. The regular “Men” sign is on one side of the men’s room door and on the other side of the door is a sign that says: Sprinkler Room.