Mar. 16th, 2004 09:42 am
UFR: Downy flakes
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muckefuckI'm beginning to realise that this medium works best when I treat it like a sketchbook: Quick, fresh impressions in the style of watercolours or pencil drawings. Trying to compose longer entries after long gaps just doesn't seem to work as well. However, if you feel dinked out of an entry I promised and never delivered, let me know and I shall seek to make amends.
When I heard "light snow" on the radio, I expected the desultory flurries of a week ago. I certainly didn't anticipating looking out my window at a parkscape blanketed in white. I would've liked to have gotten up early and explored it, but I was sleeping off my last opera night of the season (thanks again, e., for your wonderful companionship) and barely made it to work on time.
Rushing down Argyle, I was struck by how free of snow it was. Just a little slush in the gutter and...big flakes at the intersection with Winthrop? Wait, those aren't flakes, they're...feathers? Chicken feathers. strewn all about. Many seemed to be spilling from a white, pillowcase-sized cloth bag; I didn't want to think about what else might be in there. Near the opposite corner were...a sheet and a blanket? Someone's bedding? Or is this how the transport the live chickens to local restaurants?
Oh, and in front of the corner convenient where drunks and bums tend to hang out, a man standing in front of a boom car suddenly and silently thrust something at me. I immediately recognised it as a campaign button (primary elections in Illinois today) and turned it down without noticing who it was from. Might want to work on your solicitation technique, buddy!
When I heard "light snow" on the radio, I expected the desultory flurries of a week ago. I certainly didn't anticipating looking out my window at a parkscape blanketed in white. I would've liked to have gotten up early and explored it, but I was sleeping off my last opera night of the season (thanks again, e., for your wonderful companionship) and barely made it to work on time.
Rushing down Argyle, I was struck by how free of snow it was. Just a little slush in the gutter and...big flakes at the intersection with Winthrop? Wait, those aren't flakes, they're...feathers? Chicken feathers. strewn all about. Many seemed to be spilling from a white, pillowcase-sized cloth bag; I didn't want to think about what else might be in there. Near the opposite corner were...a sheet and a blanket? Someone's bedding? Or is this how the transport the live chickens to local restaurants?
Oh, and in front of the corner convenient where drunks and bums tend to hang out, a man standing in front of a boom car suddenly and silently thrust something at me. I immediately recognised it as a campaign button (primary elections in Illinois today) and turned it down without noticing who it was from. Might want to work on your solicitation technique, buddy!
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