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most times, when my wife decides that she's going to spend the entire weekend away at her daughter's home, there's at least at little warning. being blessed with finely-tuned detective skills, the bags stacked three-high next to the bed when i arrived just past the witching hour on Thursday was evidence enough. i just didn't get the part where she was going to depart, three hours after i awoke. so continues my legacy. ordinarily, i make use of the solitude constructively. projects. checking in on friends avoided. sometimes, just driving. thinking of what i would become or whether i would take wing if this was permanent. the jury is still out on that. today, nature has had other plans. like me spending quality time with the cat. hanging the Chrysanthemum Flag over the window... new hardware where new hardware was needed. making a firey batch of beef jerky. and english football, comedy and spies... an out-of-country experience. which made me wonder, again, "then, why am i in this country?" it's OK. i can cool my jets, for one day. and, with the wind howling around the oasis of the house, forging a crust on the arresting glaze of snow, my jets are truly cooled. for now. despite the emergency interruptions about blizzard conditions, maybe i salvaged that warm-weather feeling for someone on Friday, with the two-hour reggae slot. even with index finger hovering above the "on air" button, the phone rang. and rang, again, later. x10. others, seeking mental and rhythmic escape.
peculiarly, i've had my photo snapped twice in recent days: once for driver's license renewal, again, for the passport. for one who much prefers peering through a viewfinder rather than frozen by the myopic glass of the lens, this was an ordeal to be tolerated... even if i'm presented with the expected escapee-from-drug-rehab/fugitive-from-justice headshot. no vanity for the non-photogenic, or the aging. perhaps, the weather will break, and so will the internal glacial action. there's tomorrow, so my instincts tell me.
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