7.1.13

MISCELLANEOUS: of earphones, library moments, a macchiato, and Walden

   
Firstly, your Random Photo of the Day.





  Sometimes, in between songs, when I have my earbuds in, I can hear my 'own' sounds. The strange thing is, sometimes, I recognize the sounds from other people.  My dad clearing his throat, my mom's jaw that clicks every once in a while.  Scary. 
  


  Funny things happen to me in libraries. This morning I happened to be arrive very shortly after opening time. I dropped off my books at the downstairs desk, said hello to the old gentleman librarian who was reading the daily paper, (he raised his eyebrows, peered at me over the top of his glasses; "Good! morning."), and ran upstairs to the children's wing.  
  Where it was dark. No lights on.  No librarian. Well.  The door was propped open, and "I'm on good terms with Miss Nancy" I assured myself, so I ventured in. Light filtered in past the cat-in-the-hat paintings on the windows, so I could see where I was going. I could even read the titles on the audiobooks. 
  Until I got further into the room. "Flashlight-time," I thought, and pulled out my keyring.  I shone my little led light up and down the rows, trying to find 'Time Stops for No Mouse'.  I noticed how mysteriously secretive the pale light looked, flashing over the spines of books and the black type of titles.
  This was when I realized how burglar-ish it all felt. I laughed to myself, and kept searching. 
  On my way out, I met Miss Nancy, who apologized for running late. Her knee was giving her problems. Don't worry folks, I didn't get arrested for trying to find books in the dark.

 On further thought, I probably could've just flipped the light switch to the 'on' position.  Hmmm....




 This afternoon my sister, a friend, and myself visited the local coffee shop.  'Tis a good thing to do of a Monday afternoon. 
  I ordered a macchiato, since I've been wanting to try it for oh, quite some time. 
  "Do you want it the Starbucks way, or the Real way?" asked Chris, the barista who's into local history. (That's distinctive you see, as there is also Jared, the barista who whistles, and Josh, the barista who's the pastor. I don't know Sheena yet.)
  He proceeded to explain the difference between the two variations to me.  I chose the Real way.  Decaf.  "Is that even Right?", my friend and I wondered. "Isn't that defeating the Purpose? Should espresso even be consumed if it's Decaffeinated?"  (These are the highly moral discussions we get into at times.)  I finally decided it was the only way I could try it, and still get to sleep before Wednesday morning.
  He brought it out eventually, and the wee black cup and saucer looked ridiculous in his huge hands. It felt ridiculous in my hands, and I have been told that I have small ones. It felt like playing at teaparties again. 
  However, macchiato is a grown-up drink. Very.  I have never drunk something so strong in all my life. 
I liked it, when I wasn't actually swallowing it. Don't ask me how that works.
  It must have been Decaf, because I've been yawning all evening.

  

  I couldn't find 'Time Stops for No Mouse', so I chose 'Walden' by Henry David Thoreau. It turned out to be only short passages from the book. I was not impressed. My policy is to read books in their entirety, and with the exception of 'Moby Dick' and 'Les Miserables', I think I've stuck to it. I am planning to read those books in their unabridged form sometime in the near future.  

 Thoreau. I like his style of writing, how he strings words together, but I think that as a Christian I can not live life the way he did. I can not be a recluse, avoiding my fellow men. (Much as I wish I could at times.) 
  I'm not saying you couldn't bring glory to God with a lifestyle like that. I think one could. His descriptions of the animals and nature surrounding him fascinate me, and make me marvel at the intricacy and creativity of God and His Creation. 
 But I don't think it's for me.

He makes me laugh. 

 "Generally speaking, a howling wilderness does not howl: it is the imagination of the traveler that does the howling."  

  "I was more independent than any farmer in Concord, for I was not anchored to a house or farm, but could follow the bent of my genius, which is a very crooked one, every moment."

 "I have a great deal of company in the house, especially in the morning when nobody calls."

Ah, yes. A true wordsmith.



There. That is sufficient randomosity for the day. 


P.S. It has come to my attention that the little cousin I referred to in  "I Duel Five-Year Olds Before Breakfast",  has grown up under my very nose, and is Actually Six.   Already!!!!


 




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