Soggy

40 days and 40 nights, I'm told. Noah obviously didn't live in Vancouver. But if he did, he'd probably be like me, sitting in a little basement suite ark hunched over a laptop, making lentil soup for dinner. Cups of ingredients march two by two into the pot as the storm rages outside. The wind was so strong that it tore the roof off of our neighbour's treehouse. The news tells me that there is flooding and ferry cancelations elsewhere because the weather's so bad.

In the underground parkade at Ikea they play a lot of choral music. The atmosphere gets kind of spiritual while you wander through all those pillars, trying to figure out where you parked your car. But I didn't come for an out of body experience. I wanted measuring cups. Good, heavy stainless steel ones with rivetted handles instead of the cheap spot-welded ones that fall apart. I could only find plastic. C'est la vie.

My mother is painting the hallway yellow at the moment. Life is a constant renovation. The previous owners of the house used to buy cheap blue paint from the mistint shelf at the hardware store, and the guy's wife used to do a really half-assed job painting it everywhere. When we bought the house, we found out that they had just painted around all their furnature and left huge parts of the walls unpainted. We christened the colour 'Bev blue' and we've hated it ever since. Now it's nearly gone. I'm glad.

Outside, it continues to rain. Walking in it leaves my brain saturated. Even the creatures living in the most isolated and remote regions of my mind have wet feet.

The alligators don't mind though. They like it swampy.

One of my previous posts has disappeared from my blog twice. Censorship or coincidence?

Maybe not, because this one disappeared too.