Journal of a Sabbatical

December 30, 2000

not very interesting
here at nutcase central

Dawn: 6:06 AM
Sunrise: 7:13 AM
Sunset: 4:21 PM
Dark: 5:28 PM

Today's Reading: The Snark-Out Boys and the Baconburg Horror by Daniel Pinkwater, Reminiscences of a Nonagenarian by Sara Anna Emery

Ever wonder what "natural flavor" means in those ingredients lists on your food? This Atlantic article takes you inside where they make it.

The much-hyped storm turned out not to be very interesting, at least at my house. It started mid-afternoon and ended (at least temporarily) around 8:00 PM. There's about 5 inches on the ground. Maybe less than that. I was about to go outside to measure it with a ruler when I heard yelling and scraping of shovels, well one shovel. I looked out the window and sure enough the Busy Body is out there shoveling the parking lot. What's weirder is she just hand carried a big chunk of snow from somewhere near her parking space to the snow pile up against my fence. She walked practically the whole length of the parking lot carrying a load of snow. For one frightening minute I thought she was headed for my back door. At the last second she took one step to the left and dumped it on the pile.

Earlier while it was still snowing, I heard shovel scrapes (but no yelling) and thought it was her, but it turned out to be one of the Russian Parking Space Blockers (the drummer in the band) who apparently needed to go somewhere. No doubt some drumming emergency. His footprints were covered over with new snow by the time Busy Body started her mission. I don't know who she's yelling at because the drummer is long gone and there is no one, absolutely no one, else out there. All the other cars are snow-covered and look like they haven't been moved since this afternoon.

I just checked again and there are now several sets of footprints running in a line between her parking space and the end of my walk. They're all Busy Body's. She's evidently made several trips. She's still out there but she's not yelling anymore. Stay tuned for more observations from nutcase central.

Later that same night...

Just when I thought it couldn't get any weirder, it got weirder. At around 10:30 PM the plow came back to make another pass and put down some sand because ice had begun to form. That's not the weird part. They're supposed to do that. However, Busy Body came flying out of her unit (what's she doing up? she goes to bed at 7:30 she tells me) and stops the plow in mid parking lot. I can hear her voice but not make out the words without opening the window. Next thing I see is the plow backing up and making repeated passes down our side of the parking lot coming closer and closer to the cars while Busy Body is removing the resulting snow bank from behind her car with her hands. With her hands! She's wearing mittens, but still... Every time the plow makes a pass, she pushes or throws more snow into the parking lot.

The Russian Parking Space Blocker and one of his sons (the little one who's not in the band) come outside to walk the Russian-speaking dog (I still have yet to hear this dog speak Russian or any other language but they insist he speaks Russian). The dog leaps at the snow balls the Busy Body is throwing, thinking she wants to play. She doesn't. I don't hear what she says, but then I hear a booming Russian-accented voice intoning "Use a shovel!" She keeps throwing the snow with her hands.

After more snow throwing, Busy Body gets in her car and drives out to the street where she stops in the middle of the street with lights on and doors open so no other vehicle can possibly get by. The plow backs up - he can't go forward because she's blocking him - and enters our parking lot again. Then he clears her parking space. He plows it repeatedly until her space is clear to bare pavement. The plow then makes yet another pass down the center of the parking lot and pushes the snow up against my fence. The fence wobbles and shakes. I hope he doesn't knock it over this time. The last time a plow knocked my fence over it took months to get it fixed.

By the time the Russian-speaking dog and his Parking Space Blockers return, the Busy Body's car is back in her space, she's back inside her unit, and their cars (at least three of theirs) as well as mine are sealed into our spaces by a three foot wall of frozen plowed snow.

The only way to deal with this is to go to bed. I'll deal with it in the morning.