(no subject)
Well, it wasn't the Thunderstorm of the century, but it sure was pretty. and fun to be out in. Watching lightning strike 'down' (that's how the eye perceives it, even though the reverse is true), and then stitch frantically across the horizon from cloud to cloud is always amazing to watch, moreso from a comfy, dry car.
But wait. perhaps I should back up a bit.
So I came home from work to find Joseph gone, but the car here. Unusual, but he said he'd be picking up the keys and doing apartment-things today, so not worrysome. I made myself dinner (stir-fried noodles - gosh they were good) and tea, and watched the storm begin to grumble and roll in. The sky got darker and darker. The first few bands of rain scudded by so fast, they barely wet the road. By the time Joseph and Jordan (his younger brother) came stamping cheerfully in, wet to the skin, the sky was black as night, though it was still a half-hour to sunset. Bolts of lightning were coming down with alarming regularity. Jordan was stripped to the waist, showing his amazing farmer's tan - he looked rather like a guernsey cow, really - and sopping wet. Joseph stopped to change shirts and grab umbrellas, and back out they trooped.
I assumed they were coming right back, but apparently not. Perhaps half-an-hour later, they cheerfully wrestled in a small white couch-segment, one of a set of eight modular-couch-pieces that Joseph's dad had given him for the new apartment. Jordan was taking three for his apartment, and somehow after running them hither and yon between apartments and their dad's house, they'd ended up with a spare segment.
Jordan made his farewells, took his truck and left. Joseph turned to me and said, "So. Are you ready to go?"
Turns out that tonight was the deadline for the renter's preexisting conditions checklist (something they might have mentioned earlier) and our landlord wanted both our signatures on it - which meant that I had to go out and see the new place, too.
*insert gratuitous lightning-and-thunder sound effects here*
Oh, sure, twist my arm!
So out we went into the storm, with Joseph driving, so I could spend all my attention watching the storm-giants throwing bolts at each other and squealing in delight everytime the great grey bowl of the sky lit up. It was a lot of fun.
The apartment complex is HUGE. It feels like a town all by itself.
The new apartment *feels* smaller. Joseph swears it isn't, and the kitchen is a vast improvement, with a full walk-in pantry, a dishwasher, and enough cabinet space for anything and everything I care to have. It has a little deck, and overlooks the nearer pool. Perhaps it's just the way the space is arranged. We'll see when we get all our stuff moved, I suppose. Anyway, it really is a strange feeling - all the buildings are on the same plan, painted the same way, surrounding a huge green commons. On the inside, the foyers are unlocked (for mailmen and deliveries and such), but the doors leading to the interior have their own key, as do the individual apartments. The walls are white, but all the doors are a dark, dark brown, so the result is a rather two-dimensional feel to the whole place, like living in a black-and-white comic, or a DOS-prompt game. Now more than ever, I want a little plaque for my front door that sprouts random descriptions from ZORK.
I'm living in a dungeon! If I get a sudden urge to run around decapitating my neighbors and picking up treasure, I'm blaming Jack Thompson.
So. The name of the new apartment is Witt's End. It just is.
But wait. perhaps I should back up a bit.
So I came home from work to find Joseph gone, but the car here. Unusual, but he said he'd be picking up the keys and doing apartment-things today, so not worrysome. I made myself dinner (stir-fried noodles - gosh they were good) and tea, and watched the storm begin to grumble and roll in. The sky got darker and darker. The first few bands of rain scudded by so fast, they barely wet the road. By the time Joseph and Jordan (his younger brother) came stamping cheerfully in, wet to the skin, the sky was black as night, though it was still a half-hour to sunset. Bolts of lightning were coming down with alarming regularity. Jordan was stripped to the waist, showing his amazing farmer's tan - he looked rather like a guernsey cow, really - and sopping wet. Joseph stopped to change shirts and grab umbrellas, and back out they trooped.
I assumed they were coming right back, but apparently not. Perhaps half-an-hour later, they cheerfully wrestled in a small white couch-segment, one of a set of eight modular-couch-pieces that Joseph's dad had given him for the new apartment. Jordan was taking three for his apartment, and somehow after running them hither and yon between apartments and their dad's house, they'd ended up with a spare segment.
Jordan made his farewells, took his truck and left. Joseph turned to me and said, "So. Are you ready to go?"
Turns out that tonight was the deadline for the renter's preexisting conditions checklist (something they might have mentioned earlier) and our landlord wanted both our signatures on it - which meant that I had to go out and see the new place, too.
*insert gratuitous lightning-and-thunder sound effects here*
Oh, sure, twist my arm!
So out we went into the storm, with Joseph driving, so I could spend all my attention watching the storm-giants throwing bolts at each other and squealing in delight everytime the great grey bowl of the sky lit up. It was a lot of fun.
The apartment complex is HUGE. It feels like a town all by itself.
The new apartment *feels* smaller. Joseph swears it isn't, and the kitchen is a vast improvement, with a full walk-in pantry, a dishwasher, and enough cabinet space for anything and everything I care to have. It has a little deck, and overlooks the nearer pool. Perhaps it's just the way the space is arranged. We'll see when we get all our stuff moved, I suppose. Anyway, it really is a strange feeling - all the buildings are on the same plan, painted the same way, surrounding a huge green commons. On the inside, the foyers are unlocked (for mailmen and deliveries and such), but the doors leading to the interior have their own key, as do the individual apartments. The walls are white, but all the doors are a dark, dark brown, so the result is a rather two-dimensional feel to the whole place, like living in a black-and-white comic, or a DOS-prompt game. Now more than ever, I want a little plaque for my front door that sprouts random descriptions from ZORK.
I'm living in a dungeon! If I get a sudden urge to run around decapitating my neighbors and picking up treasure, I'm blaming Jack Thompson.
So. The name of the new apartment is Witt's End. It just is.