cone of uncertainty

Erin was easy. If I can just remember not to drive the car into any really deep puddles, I'll be fine. And now there's Dean [remember Dean? ah, boyfriends . . .], who was predicted to wreak havoc all over the Gulf region of the U.S., but more recent evaluations of what will happen next week is that it will head right into the Yucatan, and by that time it will be more of a depression than a hurricane.

The language of weather parallels the language of the psyche: depressions, storms, and floods. Scorchers. Weakening systems. The cone of uncertainty: I picture all treacherous doubts funneling into the top of my head and swirling around in my brain before being pumped to my heart, where they flutter and jump until a more predictable pattern emerges.

Fruit flies. Mosquitoes. Fire ants.

Today I purchased wood filler. The intent is to make the window in the shower look less like a rotting frame and more like -- like a window. Will this work? The window is beyond opening and closing, although we gave it a shot when we first moved in. "It will be nice," I thought, "to have an open window to air out the shower and keep down the mildew. Much nicer than the shower in the old apartment, with that broken gas heater installed in the tiles opposite the shower head." But opening the window requires a serious effort, and every time one of us did, more and more of the frame crumbled off, and more and more of the frame cracked. So this wood filler isn't going to fix anything. It'll just make it look better by filling the wood in where there isn't any. I'll need to use sandpaper.

This is a description of the coffee mug in front of me: a smiling, cross-eyed, grey elephant skips rope against a sea-foam green background, with these words written next to him: TTPbIT-CKOK, TTPbIT-CKOC TDE-TO PYXHYA TTOTOAOK

Yesterday I made pasta sauce using fresh sage from the sage plant Cake left us. Sagacious Cake's sage plant. It was delicious.