In a tin-roofed trailer the sound of a rainstorm is deafening, loud past disbelief. Too loud for conversation, or for television, or for reading, such a storm forces contemplation. It's impossible to pretend that you're anywhere else.
That's how I spent summer evenings for many years--curled up in a corner, actively aware of just where I was.
Whatever sickness is going around my office seems to be making a stop here, which is completely not allowed because I don't have the free time for being sick this month. In the meantime I'm learning how to play chess and petting a kitty, occasionally at the same time. Today I'll be in Greenwood and then out for Alicia's birthday, which may or may not involve a stop at Neumos to see Band of Horses.
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