When will the muscadine grapes be ripe?!

I awoke this morning to quite an interesting hullabaloo just outside. My kitchen window looks down into a little courtyard parking lot on a bluff, walled up with white brick, blocked from the street by several large oak trees. It's impossible to get out of this lot except through a barely-wide-enough slot that is nearly impossible to navigate without a compact car.

Upon seeing the fiasco I'm about to attempt to describe, I walked down to join the throng of perplexed and angry neighbors unable to leave for work since... There was some sort of old blue Mercury crashed into the building, with its side resting against the brick wall that lines one side of the exit slot (which is unconveniently like a seawall groin), completely blocking it. The end of the wall had smashed the side of the car in. The car's rear was facing uphill into the lot, and there was no way in hell that any tow truck was going to gain access unless it were airlifted in. We stared at the situation, scratching our heads, wondering what series of events could have led to it. I had to get ready for work, but I kept opening up the little window in my shower to peek out at the goings-on - the solution involved a tow truck, a car already in the lot, a lot of pushing, and a lot of frustrated yelling. So entertaining!

Ahh, back into distance running! Trying to do a 3-4 miler every morning with light superset weights after, for an hour total. I strolled into work (for the first time in awhile, I've been driving recently) this morning in high spirits and I've been incredibly busy all morning with various projects.

After sushi and a quiet evening on Friday with S, we woke up late on Saturday morning, procured breakfast, and spent most of the day doing nothing. I curled up on S's couch with a fleece blanket and Perdido Street Station in the sunshine. I haven't done this in forever. Something inside was quite satisfied by this complete discarding of all thoughts pertaining to productive activities. I think we went out once to get more sushi (and cookies!), and then enthusiastically returned to our lazy pursuits. And Perdido Street Station... Is a work of art. Absolutely brilliant, fascinating, disturbing, revolting, alluring. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to shake some of the imagery.

Sunday, I took care of some errands, found gas for $3.53, and fell asleep for hours in a sunny patch on my parents' back deck with a book draped over my eyes and the late-summer drone of cicadas in my ears. I spent most of the evening at RH's apartment clubhouse with the dance coterie, attending an instructors' workshop organized by RH. Everybody was enthusiastic and participative, and we shared pizza and RH's homemade blueberry coffee cake and blackberry pie. <3

The rest of the evening involved some serious reflection. Things are suddenly turning in a more purposeful direction, in more than one aspect.