In A Fog

Pic of the day:  On the Saco, by Albert Bierstadt


To withdraw is not to run away, and to stay is no wise action when there is more reason to fear than to hope. ‘Tis the part of a wise man to keep himself today for tomorrow, and not venture all his eggs in one basket. And though I am but a clown, or a bumpkin, as you may say, yet I would have you to know I know what is what, and have always taken care of the main chance…

Miguel de Cervantes,  Don Quixote de la Mancha (Sancho Panza)


I’ve been walking around in a fog for the last few days.  After spending several days last week and this week traveling, I am back home.  The odd thing being I was also at home for part of each of those days.  There was a smoke condition in Das Rhino Hacienda, and because the Fire dept. and the electric company both could not find the source of the problem, they decided to cut the power to the house.

Which makes us safe but also makes life very much less liveable.  I was not really surprised and but truly annoyed to find out just how dependent I am on electricity in my everyday life at home.  I could have eaten every day and stayed here at home sweet apartment, but I would have been relegated to near darkness most of the time.

My cell phone, a necessary link to the outside world to both job and wife couldn’t charge.  So I needed to find a place to do that.  The computer, my main form of news gathering and entertainment was obviously not an option.  The fridge was down.  No TV, no microwave oven, no coffee maker.

No coffee maker? I thought that with a shudder.

That one almost killed me, just thinking it.  Life without coffee is only slightly less crazy than life without oxygen.  It may be possible to live without coffee elsewhere in the universe, but it’s not possible on my fucking world.

So I could either sit in the dark, alone (my wife was 3,000 miles away) with no coffee, no means of communication with my wife and job and with food rotting in the freezer and no way to save it, or, find someone with whom to entrust my stuff, not to mention charge my damn phone,and maybe stay there much of the time as well, and get my coffee fix.

I chose the latter.  (Thanks, Mom!)

Happy that I did, made my life a lot easier.  Even had a place to put my freezer items, saved me a boatload of money doing that. (And mom’s a damn good cook, too.  Better cook than me some ways, and I pride myself on being a good cook.)

After over a week of running around like a fucking madman, I am back living home. I have slept in my own bed twice.  Drank my own coffee by the gallon.


And yet…

I walk downstairs every day, and I tell you I still smell the smoke, and to me smoke means fire.  I asked the wife if she smelled it.  She said no.  I called the landlord yesterday, and had him check it out.  Nada.  I love my wife and respect her opinion.  That second however, the landlord’s opinion, normally doesn’t hold much weight.  Seeing how he lives here as well, he has a vested interest in keeping the place from burning the fuck down.  His whole life, like mine, is here.  So if he said no now after smelling  it when he first found out about it (he was out of town when this first happened and didn’t arrive until the day after) I believe him.

But I still smell it.  Drives me fucking nuts.


Fall arrives in less than 12 hours, 10:49 am New York time as I recall.  Best weather of the year coming this way. Nice.

I love autumn on Staten Island, especially living near a park.  Especially the park I grew up near.  I know all the paths, all the shortcuts in the park, and they are beautiful in fall.  The leaves wont really start to turn in earnest for another 2 or 3 weeks, and the color will peak around mid November.  If ever there were a place to celebrate nature in the confines of an otherwise shitty city like New York, Cloves lake park in autumn is it.  And as the fair weather begins to dissipate, the fair weather fans will disappear, leaving the park to us more ardent nature lovers.

I’ll be there every day that I can possibly can.  Nature is a great place to recharge the batteries.  And mine could use a serious recharge.


That’s it from here, America.  G’night.


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