Leaf Fall

Sustained winds all day, and I was running errands, so was witness to enormous swirls and dust-devils of leaves. Can hardly remember the order of things. I cleaned and restocked the bathrooms, then cleaned the theater, where Pegi's kids have been rehearsing, and we'd rented the space for an event tonight. The first episode of "Route 66" was filmed in Portsmouth, and a local DJ had gotten a copy on DVD; snacks, beer and wine, live music, I don't know whether it was a fund-raiser for something or just a party. I only need to know the number of people and the electrical requirements. After lunch, for a group of fourth graders, I show how we folded the boxes and locked them together for the installation. Knocked me out, Julia was docenting the group and asked the obvious question about how they thought the boxes were attached, and got the usual answers, glue, tape, cement, and then one little boy said we probably locked the folds together. First person, of any age, with the correct answer. How cool is that? I unhung the last of the photography show, finished the patch and repair. Then went to pick up the glasses from last weekend's wine-tasting. It was a great success, the food was great and the wine was top-floor, I hear, all well and good. But when I pick up the glasses, they'll all dirty, residual crusted wine from last Saturday, and that's ok, I can deal with that, but there are fruit flies. Swarms of fruit flies. I'd put a case of glasses on the passenger seat, from the sweet, fortified Muscat, and the case of champagne flutes; loaded four cases of other glasses, and various things into the back of the truck. For the first time, and I've hauled these same glasses many places, the glasses weren't washed, and we had a serious fruit fly problem. As it happens, I'd taken a course in fruit flies at Janitor College. Up to the challenge. I seal all of the glasses in contractor bags, outside, in the No Parking zone, hoping a cop will come along, asking questions. I've rehearsed my response. I'm good on this. I've watched enough plays that I'm not sure where the boundary is anymore, so I pay attention to detail. I could spin off in so many ways, the way thought difurcates. Emily was probably epileptic, explain all that late night thing, her and the Judge. Light is difficult. In that Rosseti setting. Everyone was busy.