Politics

Fortunately we rarely discuss it. In the broad strokes we agree about most things, but life has a way of coloring opinions, and it's a topic best avoided. Except when it comes to our door. Then, it's a topic best ridiculed. About five days after I came here a man came by bearing (don't click on it yet) this flier and espousing the kind of adorable campaign rhetoric that is perfect for commercials and well-edited quips but when strung together becomes about as eloquent as a bowl of alphabits cereal. I thought it best to stay upstairs (I hadn't registered to vote in this election) and let those parties actually interested and (hopefully) knowledgeable about the issues debate them. It didn't last long. She asked the terrible question and the man crumpled. Sound-bites never say how one plans on going about doing something, and a good political campaign should have a plan buried somewhere in it, even if it is hidden in the display department. (If you haven't clicked on the flier pdf link, feel free to at any time.) In any case, he got into his really late-model anemic-gold colored BMW convertible (whose top was down, btw) and drove off, leaving a puddle where the air conditioner's condenser had been dripping. Let me repeat that for those of you who still haven't clicked the link. Mister I'll fight corruption and waste on Beacon Hill because I'm one of the little guys who wants to save you money by cutting your taxes and extending you state-paid-for scholarships got into his very shiny brand-new-looking three times as expensive as any car in the neighborhood convertible and drove off with the air conditioner still running on a breezy day in August where the temperature was quite comfortable. We waited until he'd left the circle of the neighborhood to laugh at him.

Well, we'd better get started, hadn't we?

So much to say, so much space in which to say it. Let's see here. If you're here, it's likely because you know me and know me well. If you found your way here and have no idea who I am, this semi-regular update of my life is probably not going to make much sense in places, though there's a pretty good chance I'll not make sense even to some of those who do know me, so either way, comment and ask, and I'll happily clarify, as ever.

So...where to begin? The drive up to Amherst was lovely, and only somewhat uncomfortable. It turns out I really can sleep in unconventional positions with very little trouble. I now live in Amherst with some very nice people(if you need my address and don't have it email me), on the second floor of a lovely little house, at about 10 o'clock of an ellipsoidal neighborhood circle, and aside from the vague unease which comes from having neighbors directly out of a PBS series, it's wonderful. There's a garden, a compost pile, a section of forest beyond the backyard, and the woods really are lovely, well-lit in daylight and deep.

(Yeah, um, he and that ball of cheer "because I could not stop for death he kindly stopped for me" apparently lived here once, and the town likes making sure no one forgets it. Anyway...)

After unpacking and assembling some things (I don't know what to call this desk-like thing; it has wings) we (I and one of the very nice people I live with) went to Sugarloaf Mountain.

Actually, at this point, I'd like to digress (shocking, I know) a bit. There are things here which I'm going to name in quick succession, but that happened over several days. This is because I didn't keep careful notes, and didn't always bring my camera.

The food is always more delicious than I say. This is because practically all of it comes from farms within 15 miles (5 if I didn't habitually hedge my bets) of here, and apparently this valley is really really good at making corn and asparagus. It's corn season now, and for 0.5 dollars an ear you can learn that Sugar and Butter Corn really doesn't need any. After sugarloaf came a place called The Harp in North Amherst (I think, might have been Northampton), and a Friday night session there, then came mount Pollux, which used to be an orchard and has a truly awesome 360-degree view, and Puffer's Pond, which is about twice the size of Bayou St. John, and triple the volume at record drought levels (which we're apparently suffering) in spite of the days of rain we've had this week. (I tend to start my weeks on Monday in my head, partially because of very early Spanish lessons, but mostly because I like my weekends in significantly sized chunks, not as bookends to work.)

In terms of wildlife we have, butterflies, planted and wild-flowers, trees beginning to turn, it's really quite lovely here, and the temperature has been between 84 and 71 (29 and 22 for you lovers of reason and logic) since I've gotten here. Amherst itself (the town center I mean) was charming (in the sense that it had charm, not in the a-brochure's-synonym-for-crappy sense) though I gather parking during the semester anywhere nearby would be a miracle. On the plus side, it's not a terribly challenging walk for me...in good weather. I'm told the winter will be milder than it otherwise would be thanks to the microclimate of the Pioneer Valley (no, seriously, that's the name), but I suppose I'll find out soon.

All in all, life is actually quite good, and as adventures go, this is a very good start. Don't know when or what I'll add next, but if I haven't added photos in a week or so, start bugging me about them.

Quick Preamble

Why a preamble? Because I preamble everything. Why not my blog?

I'll give you a moment to facepalm if you've noted I've just preambled a preamble.

The blog title is a pun on a physics term that references my newly-local geography.

The blog address is an old answer to an old statement of my great-/grandmother's.

(It's more a lament, really: everything wears but the river.)

Everything changes, and this was set up so you could share and enjoy some of that.

(If you now have a certain song in your head, I owe you an apology and a drink.)

Allons-y to the first post, then!