I am relaxing with my tea, thinking up all sorts of categories of new web pages to write (an index of my record collection, with commentary; the revival of my Nepal travelogue from 1997; the revival of some of my content from my pre-teahousehome.com website which was hosted on netcom (which I cannot find on archive.org now!); a list of all the movies I've rented this year from my DVD-by-mail subscription service; photos of all my friends naked (actually photos of the faces of all of my friends pasted onto either of two nearly-naked bodies, depending on gender and how much caffeine I have had during editing); etc.), trying to decide whether or not to write a really smutty novel for NaNoWriMo, and trying not to think of all the work-related nightmares I've had over the last 10 days. Only some of them have been set at work; a couple of them were nightmares in that they were condensed, slightly intensified versions of actual events which I had not enjoyed at the time, in a way that filled me with dread. Others just covered themes of struggle which were reminiscent of work.
This morning's dream was about trying to save three delicate fish (two orange, one calico) whose water had been abruptly taken from them, and who were suffocating. I hadn't put them in their situation, but I was completely and solely responsible for saving them, and did not have the resources to do so. I scooped them up from the floor and tried to put them into various containers, which would not hold water, or could not hold enough water to cover them. I got assistance from friends, who rushed in with water that was too hot for them, and which contained chloramine which burns gills. The fish began to wither visibly while struggling, and their pain was almost audible... Finally, I improvised a container from a Plexiglas box, which only covered them with adequate water at a certain angle, and I managed to get a pitcher of cool, safe (chloramine-free) water which finally covered them, and I nearly cried with relief... but it was still not a permanent solution.
Yes, I know. I know. I do.
My neighbor's plum tree is losing its leaves, as are many other trees around the neighborhood. We don't have those glorious, gold-red forests that they have back east as the whether turns cold, because fall isn't the time of year when it turns cold: this is our summer. It has been stunningly warm at least half the days this week, perfect days for hiding out in the shade with a book, or going for a walk after sunset. These are the sorts of nights that I long to bike around the City, covered with blinky lights, but my biking isn't confident enough to ride smoothly over uncertain pavement the way I used to.
I am uncertain how to mark the seasonal change (which officially occurs on September 23, 2007, on the fall equinox) with food. Though I suspect it will involve the butternut squash I bought last week.
If any of you have a good, vegan, stuffed squash-blossom recipe, share it with me before it is too late to get those at the Heart of the City farmer's market!
I'm going to go outside and try to persuade our apple tree to give me some more apples.
posted by Arlene (Beth)1:55 PM