muddy gash through a flower bed
Monday, May 5 2003
Some things about Spring (and warm weather generally) are inevitably forgotten while crossing the desert of winter. Take the sundress, for example. I'd more or less forgotten that they still existed, or (at least) that they existed in the context of Gretchen. But then today she put one on and complemented it with white spiderweb-design pantyhose. If you listened carefully you could hear the distant howling of ravenous fetishes.
It was the second anniversary of our Venice Beach engagement, so this morning Gretchen and I drove to the Hurley Town Hall and bought a marriage license. It cost $20, and with it we got an official Hurley coffee mug, some candies, and a bag of product samples courtesy of the State of New York (this bag included Pepto-BismolTM and TideTM laundry detergent, but no contraceptives). After that we had lunch at La Pupuseria, the most authentic El Salvadoran eating establishment north of the 40th parallel.
On the way home, we picked up a bunch of flowers and herbs (including catnip) at a nursery near the Kingston traffic circle. I used these to finish (or is the word really "accent"?) the landscaping on the uphill side of the house. The drainage had been poorly designed there and I'd had to dig a deep trench back in the fall. Now my task was to make this trench look like something other than a muddy gash through a flower bed. The solution was to line the walls of the trench with flat pieces of native rock, which, around our house, is from the same formation that used to supply a thriving bluestone mining industry back before the development of inexpensive Portland cement.
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