October 2002

Yes, that's what I said, a timed writing drill.

In other words, I will write for 20 minutes, and see what happens. This has two salutary effects. The first is that this thing actually gets written, which likely wouldn't otherwise happen. The second is that it should more-or-less keep me in check (fat chance) as far as rambling goes.

I have thought about several possible topics for this month, and I think that this topic, the one to which I have not yet referred except by the pronoun 'this', is the one I'll work with.

I will write about my apartment.

My apartment is a nice little apartment, or a mostly nice little apartment, or a mostly nice, not really that little, but a pretty decently sized, when all things are considered, apartment. Like any apartment, I do not own this apartment, I merely rent it. Or even just a part of it. I think my sister Naomi would think that I only rent part of it. Although this leads to another quandary; what is the best terminology for describing the person with whom you share an apartment? Apartmentmate is unwieldy; roommate isn't quite accurate (although Naomi and I share 3 of the 5 rooms in the apartment; does that make her 60% of a roommate?). So I'm looking for better terminology.

Terminology is one of those things you develop with siblings, however. For instance, one of the family words is "lawrence", meaning "to walk the dog" because the word "walk" revs up the dog to new heights of excitement previously only experienced by 6 year olds at their first circus or a Little League pitcher given the nod to start his championship game. I could tell you how "lawrence" relates to "walk" but I'd rather you work that out yourself. It's not that hard.

But yes, terminology. "Expressions of love" are phone messages received while online or away from the apartment, as in "does anyone love us?" "Are there any new expressions of love?" There are other words which form part of the idiolect of Naomi and me, but I don't think it's wise to give away the whole show at once.

Speaking of shows, I had a pretty good one last night. A weather front moved in, ostensibly related to the latest hurricane, and it brought with it high winds and heavy rain. The combination of this made for some interesting sights, sounds, and smells in this general vicinity. As it happens, a tree branch hit a powerline behind our building, knocking the insulation off the wiring and starting a fire in the tree. As if that weren't exciting enough, while the fire department was coming, the powerline blew up (it's a pretty exciting special effect, but when you're about 50 feet (15 metres) away, it's too exciting altogether). The fire department arrived to find the tree fire had extinguished itself (remember, it's raining really hard as this happens) and there was no power to my building (because the powerline "fall down, go boom").

But that was the first time in a long while we had been without power here; the local power grid is pretty stable, really.

From where I sit and type, I have a good view out the bay window of some trees. The trees have not yet changed colour. It is the start of October. This is odd.

I also have a good view of a cactus, sitting in the ledge of the front bay window. This cactus is very, well, linear.

I can see a green chair. It is a real green chair, so that's cruel. To modify the overweening greenness of the chair, there is a beige, peach, and brown afghan sitting on it. The overall colour effect needs to be seen to be appreciated.

I can also see my 32" TV about which I wrote some time ago, if I do a quick crane of my neck. This is handy, because it means I can watch hockey games or Red Green or Whose Line? while doing essays and such.

I can see a blue bicycle. Before I got a car, this bicycle was my car, and it still picks up a few hundred kilometres a year, but not as much as it once did.

I can see a wooden trunk, which once belonged to my great-grandfather, Rev. Richard Scholz. I never knew him, but his trunk reminds me of him, if you know what I mean. It has been customized and rebuilt internally a little by my dad. It contains a bunch of odds and ends, including empty computer software boxes. It also has, to hold it open, an angle-cut piece of a shaft from a Victoriaville "Vic" Hockey stick. This is a stick I once used as a child, playing hockey on the driveway.

I look down on the floor and I see my 12" black and white TV, which still kind of works and pulls in Hockey Night In Canada much better than the colour TV does. Sometimes I wish we had cable in the apartment, but it is a nice apartment. Behind the TV there is a blue 2-speed fan, but only one of the two speeds works, since I dropped it a couple years ago.

I look at my timer and see I have two minutes left.

I look at my foot. It still looks like a foot. It still has an ugly scar on it.

I look at my printer. It still looks like a printer. It does not have an ugly scar on it.

I look the other way and see another fan. It is a 3-speed fan. It does not stand up straight, but all three speeds work. This is very important in an apartment like mine, where there is no air conditioning.

The time is now up.

Thanks for listening.

There is nothing more to see here.

Move along.