Forbs

You don't run across that word very often, but the public notice came out today about some controlled burns in the State Forest, and forbs were mentioned. A generic name for anything not grass that grows close to the ground; broad-leaf things, various wildflowers, especially this time of year. I support limited controlled burning, it gets rid of fuel, for a major conflagration, and the soil needs nutriment. I kill myself, sometimes, when I dance around a subject. Took off this morning to do my laundry. You and your's, you probably have running water, other things, cell phones and television. Sorry to report. I'm just known for those degrees in which I'm lacking. I do cook good ribs. But it's stupid to keep dirty laundry in your truck for a week. All of my clothes are clean but the inside of my truck smells like dirty sneakers. Big Lots, while they were in the washer, to pick up some new underwear, the elastic is wore out is several pair of mine and they bunch down, panties in a wad. I can usually find my size there, because I'm so damn skinny. Back at the laundromat, I held a baby so a young woman could fold clothes. The mom was cute and depressed, the father had run off, she was on welfare, ate on food stamps, and lived in subsidized housing. Not pleased with her life, but not seeing anyway out. Power was out at the house last night, so I read by oil lamp for a few hours and went to bed. Overcast this morning and I thought about staying home, but I wanted to be at the museum in case there needed to be an intermediary. Rain coming, so I just grabbed my shaving kit and headed out the door at first light. Layers of gray, and that tubular fog along the river, but there is green in the bottoms, and at the river's edge everything is in bloom and the grass has turned lush. D and I spend some time talking logistics, things we'll be needing for the next turnaround; study the calendar, to understand the sequence in which things need to happen. What is signified, in this pre-construction, is a desired order, the way events can be contained. Events will break down order, but as long as there's a framework, we'll muddle through. In the afternoon we set up for a concert in the main gallery, and, as D was coming back, I stayed in town. A decent crowd, the music was spirited and quite good. The wind at the leading edge of a squall line blew most of the petals off the Bradford Pear trees in town, and the streets are awash in them. Whenever a car goes by, it's followed by a rooster tail. I need to get home, before another round of rain.