I'm tickled pink (and yellow) by an article Kim Huett clipped and sent to me. It's a story about online diaries in what Kim calls "a small Victorian county newspaper," The Standard. Victorian refers to the state in Australia, by the way. It's quite a good article about the phenomenon of online diaries, but what I chiefly admire in it is the liberal quoting of me. In fact, the only two diaries the article mentions are by me and Nigel (who is not only one of my oldest friends, and an extremely fine writer, but the chap that got me into this diary business). However, I'm seriously bugged that they did not provide my URL. They gave Nigel's, but not mine. Life is never perfect.
The latest drama at work involves an agent leaving. Matthew, who did such a great job fitting in during a period of high angst and stress earlier this year, is moving to New Orleans with his boyfriend Hank. I trust my boss to make good hiring decisions, but oh, man, what a colossal pain to find a replacement and deal with yet another new person. Naturally, he's leaving the same week Marley is going to be in London. Have I mentioned life is never perfect?
With no warning, we got the tail end of Hurricane Greg, or Raoul, or whatever the heck system it is, tonight. We've had thunder, lightening, and rain for the last six hours. I'm enjoying it, but our dog is unhappy. She doesn't like any sudden loud noises, being the victim of birdshot in her puppyhood. We had a very brief venture out for a walk at midnight, but it was, er, unproductive thanks to the thunder.
I was enjoying myself, though. It was so quintessentially moody and autumnal to walk in the rain with leaves blowing around my feet and the scrick scrick of branches like a ghostly chorus. I've finally given up on summer. The leaves have been turning quite rapidly this week, and oranges and reds are everywhere. The bird population down on the bay is swollen with newcomers as the early migrants head to South America. Traffic patterns have changed now that kids are back in school. The days are definitely getting shorter. I'm looking more favorably on the greys, olives, and browns in my wardrobe. The season rolled over somewhere in the last ten days, and autumn is upon us.
I bought a book on impulse during my lunch hour: Uncommon Grounds by Mark Pendergrast, looking at the history of coffee. Coffee's been an enormous influence on the economies, social structure, and politics of many countries, sometimes entire continents. Numerous kings and caliphs have tried to ban either the drinking of coffee or the gathering places where coffee was sold. It's the stuff of revolution, chiefly responsible for sobering up an alcohol-sodden Europe in the 17th century, touted as both cure-all and cause of everything from still births to impotence. It's still one of the world's most important and lucrative commodities. I'm enjoying the book tremendously. I feel slightly guilty that I'm drinking tea while reading it, but I never drink coffee after noon any more. I find I feel revolutionary well past midnight if I do.
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