Dry Down

Dear J—

This I haven’t seen before – they’re already driving the new piles and retaining walls to raise the trackbed between Burlingame and San Mateo; it looks like it’s nearly done running north from Santa Inez. I went to bed far too late last night and am not ready for the day, this after I swore to myself that I’d be much better about it yesterday; this after groggily snoozing through several alarms and reaching the station much later than I’d like. I’ve decided – having done it both ways this week now – it’s nicer to be early than late, and why or how you might accomplish that is not for me to dictate, just to observe. The more stuff you acquire means only that you’ve got more stuff, nothing more or less significant than that.

I’ll be headed to Chicago on Monday for a one-day meeting Tuesday, flying back that night. The flight is expected to last approximately five hours and the time change means I’ll clock another two hours ahead, so the more I think about it, the less I want to deal with any flight that’s not direct. I’ve learned all about that while waiting for connections in smaller airports during the winter, and I realize those guys do their best, their very human best but sometimes I wish for more. Chicago again means we’ve got another disruption in our lives and more restless nights ahead, and that doesn’t always mean for the best. The light evenings have meant un-sleepiness has ruled the roost lately.

Our drought continues without abatement as well; we think about all the different things we can do to save – even figgy did it, as an Earth Day pledge – and things like putting a gray water bucket in the tub start to make sense. I wake up in the mornings, though, and see the irrigation spillover and condensation on the ground and wonder if it’s really that bad here, or if we should be held hostage to the demands of the southern deserts. It’s not easy to decide, but at least we don’t have to, not right away at any rate.I think about how Texas got enough rain in one month to flood the entire state to a depth of eight inches and start to believe there’s something to the idea that weird weather may be our new normal.

Mike

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