So we had a full moon the other day, on Sunday, the 12th of March. Which was also The Olde Vermonter's natal day. I would give him crap about how old he is, except for the fact that I am older. Not a lot older, but from now until May, he is only two years younger than I. Come VE Day, we will return to the normal status of me being three years older than him.
But truth be told, we are a couple of old farts. Not to put too fine a point on it. Now the kid brother, The Musician, why he hasn't even turned 60 yet, whipper snapper. I won't say just how old he is, but I believe he has a sauce named after him. Know what I mean, nudge, nudge.
But I digress.
So Sunday was a full moon, Monday was just a mundane, normal, humdrum, just-another-day, nothing out of the ordinary, typical Monday back at work after a brutally short weekend. I say brutally short because I had to get up early on both Saturday and Sunday. (Early being a relative thing, you morning people stop your giggling.)
Upon our return from our Nation's Capital, the week before, I discovered a missive from Honda in the mail.
Please take your camera down to Pearl and count the number of ships...No, no, not that Honda, the automobile manufacturer. It was one of those safety recall notices that, while fixing them is free, still requires that one's automotive conveyance spend time at the dealership while they rectify whatever the engineers at Honda have discovered.
Now this wasn't some engineering defect per se, no, this was more along the lines of...
This part has been discovered to deteriorate over time in humid climates to the point that it might, might, explode in the event of an accident if the passenger-side airbag is activated.What was that?
If you get in an accident...
No, not that part, the might explode part. Explode as in bloody well go boom and disperse shrapnel throughout the passenger area.
Well, er, yes, might...
Alrighty then, so when can I bring her in?
Saturday at 1030 is the earliest we...
1030 it is my dear lady, see you then!
While I wasn't that anxious to climb out of bed at that time of day, I wanted to get the beasty fixed. Much like me, she is becoming old and fragile in some of her finer parts. She's provided good service for the last 12 plus years and she's gotten me out of a weather jam now and again, she being all wheel drive and very nimble for her age. Unlike her skipper, who if he moves too abruptly might discover a muscle group or two which he hasn't used since he was a callow youth and all.
So off we went. Fortunately I had a good book, an iced coffee, and my trusty smart phone for to keep track of current events, this here blog, koobecaF, and other things.
Like the weather.
As I sat there, perusing the handy little device, I noted a weather anomaly predicted in the near future. It seemed that on Tuesday the world was, apparently, going to end in a pile of wind driven snow piling to great depths in the environs of my chosen land. Little Rhody, that is.
Car fixed, it was back home, up early again on Sunday, for church dontcha know. While I'm not a real pious fellow, I do believe and every now and again I do actually learn something from the sermon. Hey, it happens. Not every Sunday, but often enough that I feel it worth my while to attend. Besides which, The Missus Herself rather insists that we go. Probably afraid that I'll revert to my old ways. Ya know, skulls, oak groves, standing stones and the like. Howling at the moon and quaffing mead from time to time. Not that I've ever done that.
So where were we, ah yes, Sunday is done and back to work. The big topic of course being Winter Storm Stella. Of which one of my co-workers had this to say...
So big storm coming. Tons and tons of snow. Local supermarket totally sold out of bread and milk. (Why? Just why? I don't get it. Buy canned stuff. Dear Lord, d'you know you can live on Spam and baby carrots for weeks? Weeks I tell you.)
Plans were made, formal company announcements were made...
In the event of a heavy snowfall, make sure you stay safe. Stay off the roads, have plenty of supplies and...
No, we aren't going to pay you to stay home, you can make up the time later or take PTO. Come on, this is capitalism...Okay, they probably worded it differently, but I get it, why pay us to stay home, that will cost lots of money for zero productivity. I get it, I don't mind. But I decided, then and there, that if it was snowing when I awoke on Tuesday morn, why I would just feed the feline staff and go back to bed.
Tuesday at 0600 arrived, early as it always does, and I cast my gaze out to the streets. Which were wet, not white.
What's this? Rain? Is it raining?
Then I noticed the roofs of the cars were white. It was actually snowing. A very fine, very light snow. But, I had given my word, I had proclaimed to the world, that if it was snowing upon my awakening, then yea verily I would stay at home. That very day. Come what may, damn the torpedoes and all that.
Okay, technically it was "snowing," just barely, but it was indeed snowing. Lame as it was. But I was deuced tired. On the go without much sleep for a couple of weeks, and Sunday was the start of Daylight Saving Time, oh I didn't mention that?
Saturday night, 2300. I am tired, so I decide to go to bed earlier than my normal midnight hour. I check the calendar, I was curious as to when the aforementioned full moon was to occur. Why Sunday, according to the calendar and, "Oh yes, don't forget to set your clocks back at 2 AM!"
What? Bastards! So it's not 2300, it's actually frigging midnight already? Damn. Damn. Damn.
So yeah, I was feeling that lost hour on Tuesday. So I went back to bed. Got up again at 1000, looked outside and there she was, in all her awful glory, Winter Storm Stella! The wind was howling, the snow was falling fast and furious. As I set course for the kitchen to brew up some coffee, I was most happy with my decision to stay home.
Until it started raining around noon. Oh, pour it did, rain in buckets washing all of the snow down the drain. Six inches of soft powder reduced to three inches of slush. Ugh, I could have gone to work, instead I wasted a day. (Forgetting all about that wondrous sleep I had.)
Now it's a few days later, I'm working for three hours today. Just three. While I'm normally off this day (there are those who might argue that I'm a bit "off" every day) I decided to go in for a few hours, so as not to use an entire PTO day, just a chunk. A manageable chunk.
So it's been an odd week. Most odd indeed.
But did you know that the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum is in the process of restoring the Apollo 11 command module? Neither did I until I went out to Udvar-Hazy a couple of weeks ago. Pretty cool, innit?
|The capsule thingie in the right foreground, that's Apollo 11's command module.|
|Neil Armstrong, Mike Collins, Buzz Aldrin - NASA Photo|
Like I said, pretty cool.
Oh yeah, Happy St. Patrick's Day. (Almost forgot...)