Su casa es mi casa

I have stolen the following words from the clubhouse and sprinted furtively out the back and down the slick street with them and I will make something with them that I claim is my own, which I will have to keep a secret from you or anyone who knows you, for fear of lawsuits.

snobbery hobbery
regret it til I forget it
"Throw as much wood as you can fit in the stove and maybe some diesel, too" cold.

It is a compliment, but still when you discover this theft, it sucks to be you. You feel so violated. I wish I still drank beer, specifically the slightly skunky smelling kind, Rolling Rock for example. Those tasted exactly like they smelled which was so great that it made a person confused and itchy. Smelling and tasting would be hard to give up.

Did you ever imagine trying to describe a sense to somebody if the sense didn't exist and you were proposing it? Seeing for example would sound completely crazy. "You will have 2 squishy sort of gelatinous round parts of your body and you will POINT THESE at something, and light will bounce off the thing and some of it will bounce into your gelatinous part, or both of them would be better yet, but not absolutely necessary, and this will enable you to KNOW THINGS about the thing. But you can only know things about the side of the thing facing the gelatinous body part, not about the side of the thing farther away from the gelatinous body part. Also if something is between the gelatinous body part and the object, this flat out won't work." The only people who would even stick around to listen to it without hitting you with a frying pan would be people you wouldn't really want to talk to. People who play really complicated video games for hours, possibly.

Anyhow, where did all those labels come from? Did we vote on those? That's what happens when somebody lets the blog dashboard get damp. I'm borrowing a few of those, too.

the brake pedal is to the left of the gas pedal!

last night on the way in to town to purchase groceries in the safeway, i saw an interesting parking "situ". it was mostly dark, so i saw the arrangement of the car's lights and little else, but what i saw was certainly enlightening: brake lights to the sky and headlights to the mostly dry river bed. i'm certain that most folks would have stopped and offered help, but given the location of said parking "situ", i decided against it. in order to reach his parking spot, the driver had to brake heavily (unless he was going slow already), line up the vehicle with the narrow driveway that one has to already know to exist as it is entirely unmarked and it was almost draconian dark in the trees, enter the driveway, ignore the sinking feeling one gets upon seeing the "end of the road" and simply "keep on keepin' on" until the river rock and pools of last week's high water were filling the windshield. knowing the white river drainage as i do, i understand that there's a small chance of misjudging where the "end of the road" really is, but it's a small one. there is a great deal of silt from last january's atmospheric river, and it is safe to walk on, so it's possible that the driver assumed it's also safe to drive two tons of plastic on, but other than that, the only explanation i can raise is that the driver really wanted a close-up of emmons glacier silt and millennia-old boulders, in which case, he was wholly and quickly successful.
in tangientially related news, november was wet. with all the el niño tv news weather punditry going on, i thought i'd add my two cents' worth and offer a forecast rife with local knowledge and history: it's winter. shit's gonna happen.