May 18, 2014

Rain usually fills up the back of my pickup, and I have to drive around to empty it out. After the last deluge, the bed was dry, but the driver’s door had filled with water. You could hear the wave move when you moved the door. How that happened, never happening before, is a mystery to me. It drained eventually through the little side vents, but it could not possibly have gotten in that way unless the truck had been submerged.

All my transplants survived the night, stiff with moisture, eager to conquer their new world.

Grieg on Pandora.

Beethoven on Pandora

Shoulder ache different every day.

Luck, as ever, in the small things.