“She scowled at her glass of orange juice.” Robin McKinley, The Blue Sword
It’s an interesting line to open a novel. I’ve been working through this book at a glacial pace: although I am enjoying it, I think I prefer Beauty to McKinley’s The Blue Sword, on account of a more controlled storyline, I think. This book is going to be a Four Feathers type story. Not sure if that’s something that really appeals to me, but I should give it a chance. Carter is downstairs watching The Rum Diaries with his father and I am fighting off sleepiness with reading and a little journaling.
We’ve spent most of the weekend here at the cabin. On the way up we stopped by my mother’s, where we had a lovely spaghetti dinner and corn. Beast ran about eating everything in her yard, so he got a good meal in as well. Carter helped construct the composter that we had bought for them some months ago, which they had never bothered to put together. It turned out to be something of a challenge. Anyway, as we were eating our spaghetti, I noticed gray clouds billowing over the neighbor’s house. I asked if it got foggy here ever, and everyone glanced out the window and someone else hazarded a guess that perhaps it was from a BBQ? The clouds got darker and when we went to the living room we could see that only one block away there was a fire burning the dead yellow grass on the side of a hill. Some of the neighbors came out of their houses to rubberneck, and we had quite a few cars drive up onto the cul-de-sac to get a good view of the action. I could see orange flames and scorched earth! And there was a lot of smoke. The firefighters eventually came by to put out the fire, but it was quite impressive and with the wind going at the pace it was, it could have spread quickly. Perhaps it’s not great to be mildly excited by a potential disaster, but I was. I’d never seen a fire so close (and hope not to see one any closer again).
Today we saw Men in Black 3, which was an enjoyable if forgettable movie. It tried a little too hard to replicate the jaunty banter of the original MIB film, and to jerk heartstrings, but all in all, it was a decent way to spend an hour and a half or so. Dinner was at the Williams–it was nice to get all four of the dogs together, and they had a grand old time begging for food. Carter’s uncle came through as their savior and provided a bite each of steak at the conclusion of the meal.
Tomorrow we head back to San Francisco in the morning; I just want to get some rest in my own bed, in a climate that isn’t trying to desiccate me into a crinkled husk of my former self. But it is nice to spend time with Carter’s family.