Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Pots of Gold
Met some new neighbors today.

Our place was a wreck. I was sorting through books and magazines that had accumulated since before Thanksgiving. Piles here. Piles there.

His nibs was off to the local post office to mail the younger nib's newly-repaired iPod back to Boston. ... and to mail some other stuff.

I heard voices yakking down on the walk. Neighbors chatting. Not unusual. Then I heard his nibs' voice. Next thing I knew his nibs was inviting neighbors up for a walk-through. Yikes!

Our neighbor two buildings down was leasing her space to new neighbors. They were signing papers today. She'd been doing a walk-around of the place and was in front of our front steps with "and this building ..." explanation when his nibs came in.

We showed them the space.

Rainbows from the deck.

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: views from the Hill






Bertold Brecht:   
Everything changes. You can make
A fresh start with your final breath.
But what has happened has happened. And the water
You once poured into the wine cannot be
Drained off again.
























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