Dew Point

The point at which dew condenses. I'm more aware of this than most, because of the roof-line of my house. There's what builders call an 'eyebrow' overhang where the upper roof overhangs the lower roof and water drips there. I hear it as a staccato beat, which usually blends into the background white-noise of wind in the trees. I don't know what controls the size of drops of water, but they vary, and this morning they're large, and land with a thud. Different enough to wake me, almost a pattern, Miles Davis, "Kind Of Blue", or a Wes Montgomery extended jam from the early 70's, I forgo. They cxan;'tt the title, that rolled on forever. Started a fire in the cookstove and heated some water, my supper dishes were in the sink (a lovely open-face sandwich of vine-ripened tomato on toast with provolone and a fried egg) and I needed to wash them, and shave. Left home before the rain started so got to work early, let the elevator guys (Kevin and Patrick) in, then went and got Pegi and me a scone, made a pot of coffee, then opened the vault to get out the last of the Carters. TR carried all the smaller pieces downstairs while I was at lunch. The guys have manual control of the elevator (it's a counterweight system, and they're just hot-wired into the cable motor, with an up/down clicker) and made a couple of trips for us, to bring down four of the heavier pieces. Pegi helped me with those, TR had to go move the last of Meaghan's stuff into his house. Great to have Sara back, we had a couple of smoke breaks on the loading dock and talked about Carter. He's an obsession for me right now, and there are Carter files that haven't even been looked at. And what the hell does control the size of a drop of water? Living just in my head, so much of the time, has changed the way I look at the world. I need a few things at Kroger, and I get one of those arm-basket things, to get, what is the short list, whiskey and an avocado, but I have to walk a horizontal aisle, to get where I need to go, this fucking store is huge, and there's something I stop to read, a list of ingredients, and this lady behind me jams her cart into my ass. I'm a mild-tempered guy, but there are few excuses for jamming someone in the ass with a shopping cart. And I sprained an ankle. Did I mention that? Goddamned. Stupid woman said I was the problem, I had stopped, which is certainly true, there were some late fall flowers, or something I stopped to read, I had the right to stop.