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may the fleas of a thousand camels infest themselves in the respective crotches of the telemarketers that defile this realm. two of them, forty-five minutes apart, interrupted my beauty sleep. judging from the explosion of hair when i looked in the mirror (when i finally dragged myself into consciousness), i could've used a week more. thursdays always start skanky. tough to get back into the groove that was happening before i left on the migrant worker mission... my own. something got my feet moving... maybe the crispy edge to the air, certainly the technicolor splashes in the trees fed by low-angled sunlight. coming up on the end of my stint at the one camera project (check out the fotolog at some point on the multi-photog thing), i took to the road for a subject that suggested itself in the night. leaving a little country store for a splash of petrol (with a breathtaking view behind), the red nose of the miata pointed towards hidden paved one-lanes... some ending in gravel, others through scenes and paths discovered. playtime over. civic dooty... absentee voting. a long discussion with a food-service/agricultural apointee about getting the hot sauce legal. then to see about fixing the flattened ford. which turned into another joyride. on a tractor. how so many years have gone by without doing this before, i'm not sure. but i fired up billiam's old blue wreck for a trip up the mountain. to get it over with. slowly. not so bad with the clutch, a little hairy with the excuse for brakes... especially when it came time to back it around for the trip downslope. like, when it wanted to scamper down a steep incline while trying to aim between the property line pole and trees. resulting in prickly balls... anticipating a free fall through oaks and boulders. thankfully, never happening. interesing, unintentional segue back to the first sentence. later, stacking cds for tomorrow's r&b show... a little bit of er, and here i am. happily monopolizing the phone line.
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