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The Indefinite Article.

Sunday, August 03, 2003

Suburb living (update) Sunday 8.3.2003

This weekend we went inside the apt for the final time. Carol had remembered that our electric drill was in one of the drawers (along with a roll of foil, plastic wrap, and a box of sandwich bags). We figured we would get it when we picked up the car (something i've been dreading to do.)

We woke up WAY too early this morning. The baby was poking at my face and saying "da" at about 6:15. He grabbed at my nose and scratched me, so i put him off the bed. After a few seconds of standing against the side of the bed, he crawled towards the door, opened it and crawled out into the hallway, where my mother quickly picked him up and wisked him off to the living room. I slept for another fifteen minutes before i woke up.

Coffee was already made. Carol woke up and made french toast and eggs (heart shaped - i should have taken a picture). It was delicious. We put the baby in the stroller and took a walk around the neighborhood. It was warm yet pleasant, but only because i know how hot it's going to get in the afternoon.



The sidewalks here are nice: smooth and long. The trees that line the majority of the streets here are hardly old enough for their roots to have developed a taste for sidewalk concrete. They provide a patchy shade as we walk between them.



I don't kow what kinds of trees these are. It is as if they are peeling their skin off, revealing a dark orange inside. Many have big knots from where a branch has been torn off, from one of the many prunings these trees get. My mother, on a previous walk, had mentioned that that was one of the reasons why she loved this neighborhood: they kept up with the trees.

On our way back we passed through a long gap that runs immediately behind the houses that my mother's house faces. In this gap there is a wide white sidewalk and, posted alongside it are massive electricity poles. I would imagine that if you stood out there in the evening (or even on a quiet sunday morning) you might be able to hear the crackly hum of electricity flowing through the wires they support.



We got home and immediately went to the apartment for the car and other misc. things we had forgotten. The car sounded horrible at startup, but made the trip fine. I had all sorts of fantasies on my way to sugarland about changing out the fuel filter and the oxygen sensor; about getting the engine and muffler replaced; about getting the god-awful smell out of that car; about getting its up-to-date inspection and registration; so that i can get back on the road with MY car. The car i paid for. The car i used to drive my baby son home from the hospital. The first car i bought with my wife. The car i owned when Dezma was born.

It was caked with dirt. I hadn't touched it since we bought the Honda (february?) I detailed both cars this afternoon. It was hot - africa hot - iraq hot - fire in my pants hot -

...and we never got to watch the movies we rented.

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