Tetralogy

B2Keno = 11.1

On the Nature of Things

I don't know why, but I have been having a difficult relationship with the physical world for the past few days. This difficulty has manifested itself in struggles with with objects disproportionate to the tasks attempted. It seems that every thing I want or need is someplace else; on a different surface, in another room, on another floor. And every thing that I handle seems to try to slip away or otherwise make life complicated: it falls to the floor, it knocks something else over, it gets hooked on something.

Example: As I was getting my bike off its hook in the shed today, its wheel knocked my helmet off its hook. I set the bike down and leaned it against the scooter to reach for the helmet. The bike slipped and slid down. I let it alone, knowing that to try to right it would create more problems. I got the helmet, and tried to close the shed door. Of course, when the bike had shifted, it moved in the way of the door. So I had to put the helmet down, and move the bike after all, and then close the door.

These are all tiny, tiny inconveniences; it is only in the aggregate - after having similar mishaps all day long - that I get the sneaking suspicion that something is wrong, that I am vibrating at a slightly different frequency than the rest of the world and am halfway to Earth-2, or that I am turning into a ghost and don't know it.

Bikology

I did get my bike going after all that, and promptly put it on my car and drove to Cap Hill. That was cuz I lent my car to Wheylona for her last day of liberty in the Emerald City. After turning over the key to the groggy gal, I rode back to the Burke and headed out to Matthews Beach. I stopped at the park there for a while - it was nearly empty, just two kids collecting stones or something from the water. It was so relaxing and revitalizing to come to a quiet, pretty place, right in the city, right on my usual ride, and just sit and look at a lake and listen to birds. Nice.

Ready to roll

I came home from my ride via the U-district for a change and then dug in to work here at home. I did some of the usual junk - but also got the scooter ready for the season. I have replaced the trashy duct-tape repair job on the seat with a definitely homestyle but eminently less trashy "re-upholstery" job. I repaired the crack in the windshield with clear con-tac paper. All I need to do is add a few more stickers (including Wheylona's Basque sheepies) and we will be stylin'.

Get a Long Little Doggie

About Ass Dogs: I have said for a while that if and when I get a full-time teaching job, I want to run a vegetarian hot-dog cart in the summers. I figure I would try to go to the Solstice parade, the 4th of July, the Highland games - stuff like that. It would be a fun thing to do, different from being in the class room, and would make enough money for vacations or toys or something.

Well, the other night, when Sailor Sue, Mighty Mel, Kris-10, and Rye-N were visiting Otis and I, we got to talking about hot dog stands, and I was in a mood that night to leave teaching altogether, so we were discussing how to make money selling hot dogs full-time. We decided the best model was selling late at night in the bar neighborhoods (like the guy in Ballard). As we were spinning off this idea, Kris said it should be called Ass Dogs. Of course, she was absolutely right, and the business identity was born. (And yes, I am trademarking "This tastes like ass!"

At this point, we haven't really given much thought to actually selling any hot dogs, but I think we're gonna have a killer website, cool T-shirts, and some wicked bobble-head dolls. Keep watchin'.