dripdrop the weekend: in a word, rain. and more rain. nonstop rain. cold rain. isn't the weather what boring people end up discussing when they have nothing else to say, nothing better to talk about?
dripdrop saturday morning until mid-afternoon: hannah and i took care of amelia for a few hours while her mom had a photo shoot. when christina finished she brought jilly back with her and we enjoyed a really nice visit—so good to see you, jilly. how's it going with o's briefcase collection?—while we waited for the baby to wake up from her nap.
dripdrop late saturday afternoon: a little drama descended upon us in the form of an ominous phone call. hannah's summer roommate was at their apartment in vermont supposedly getting ready to move in and she called, distressed and in tears, to tell hannah (who was subletting from another student) that there were broken windows and rodent droppings and disgusting smells—the apartment was, in a word, uninhabitable. the landlord was indifferent to her roommate's pleas to do something about it. for hannah it was simply too late to negotiate; she needed to find another apartment posthaste since she was due back in vermont in five days to take a summer course and begin her job at the university as a teaching assistant in photography. hannah calmly told her roommate she was going to look for another place to live until mid-august when she returns home for two weeks before she heads out again for a semester abroad (london for a few days, then florence for a two-week orientation, then rome).
dripdrop quote of the day: thinking beyond these college days, hannah sighed and said "i need to get a real job. i need to start my life." (i don't know what, if not life, she has been living up to now.)
dripdrop saturday night: out for dinner and hannah's working the phone—apartment hunting in cyberspace—combing through craigslist and uvm's bulletin board in search of a place to call home in burlytown for the summer.
dripdrop sunday morning: road block ahead. the road was flooded one mile from the house. turn around and go the other way. breakfast at the freeport cafe with hannah, hannah's friend, molly, and molly's mom, vicki. good eggs.
dripdrop the rest of logy sunday: rain hitting the skylights and the rooftop like fingers tapping on a table that turns to rain hitting the skylights and the rooftop like a fist drumming on a table.
monday morning. no drama, just hot, black tea with a splash of milk and—ho hum, my dears—more rain, rain, rain.
6 comments:
I wish we could have your rain! It's so hot and dry in Utah that the grass is dead and crunchy already -- and it's only June 4!
Ugh. It nearly reached 100 F. today.
Well, I'm glad that at least Monday morning brought no drama! Calm. It's still drip dropping here. Sunday has been the only day that the sun has made itself known in the last, hmm, five days or so.
That's a funny quote of Hannah's. It sounds like her life is shifting many gears, but when you're young you don't tend to notice. What is it they're looking for? I hardly remember!
"i need to get a real job. i need to start my life."
Me, too!
~
Great photo. Almost looks like molten metal.
I'm so glad you shared this gorgeous shot as part of this week's Thematic theme. I've always loved how water plays on glass, and you've captured it here with such dimension and contrast. I can almost feel the dampness by just looking at it!
lisa—my son lives in houston so i hear about heat and drought. yup, rain is good. i actually like it, but now we need some sun, and here it comes.
yeah, jayne, i hardly remember either. plus some days i think i'm still looking.
ifthethunder...haha!
thanks, aunt snow, for that nice comment.
carmi—thanks for dropping by. i enjoy your thematic. this photo is of a skylight. the dark lines are maple tree limbs in my front yard.
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