Quiet, Busy

A storm blew through town last night, the same storm that has affected a fairly large region of the south-central US. Winds blustered around, thunder cracked overhead, and sheets of rain drove by, as I slept. I was supposed to go to the gym this morning for practice with crew, but the weather was awful enough that I didn't think it would be safe to ride my bicycle through it. Memories of the previous two rainstorms still linger; riding through hail and flooded with scrottie, and the recent drenched weekend where I had to bike to and fro to feed my labmates' grasshopper colonies. The grass in the yard is saturated; the compost barrel has filled with water.

I would not mind the rain so much if I knew things would actually dry out, but there are signs of larger problems. The front porch has been turning a pale green, indicative of algae. A black mold (mildew?) started growing on top of the refrigerator and along the top of a cabinet door where I keep a dishtowel*. The wood basket on the Jolly Roger has bleached and blackened from its time outside in the elements. The shoes that I wear every day have acquired a faint, disturbing odor, from the multiple occasions when they've filled with water and haven't had adequate time and heat to dry. Clothes hung up on the clothesline on the screened-in porch take a few days to dry, and even then they feel soft and slightly damp. Water speeds rates of decay, just as it speeds the growth of plants.

I'm still spending a fair bit of time reading blogs about how to simplify one's life, even as I continue to flash back and forth between update and update on miscellaneous "social" websites. I still need to change something about all of that, as social websites are a poor substitute for doing things and interacting directly with people. Then again, I've always felt a tension between the doing-of-much and periods where compressing and focusing seems more appealing.

*I've also just learned that vinegar, not bleach, is the best way to kill this, for multiple reasons.