Posted tagged ‘Sisyphus’

“Life is an adventure, it’s not a package tour.”

July 22, 2017

When I woke up, the day was bright and sunny, but it isn’t any more. Clouds have blanketed the sky. The weatherman claims those clouds will be intermittent, but I’m skeptical. A little rain would be welcomed, forecasted or not.

The spawns of Satan have mounted a new assault. They are chewing my outside lights. The gate had a trail of white lights coming from the giant star near the back door. Last night I noticed the trail had gone dark. I checked and found chewed wires. On the deck rail, two sets of colored lights have been chewed. I found bulbs from the newest set laying on the deck, chewed off the wire. The spawns seem to like the red bulbs, cementing their Satan connection. What perplexes me is those lights have been untouched for a couple of years. I’m guessing there’s a new spawn in the neighborhood. The next set of colored lights is here, but I haven’t put it on the deck rail yet. I’ve ordered a new white set. It’s crazy I guess. I’m beginning to feel like Sisyphus.

I went to Russia in the 1970’s. My friend and I took a train from Helsinki to Leningrad. We were in the last car. When it got to the border, the car was uncoupled and joined to a Russian train. A Russian train lady boarded our car. She brought us tea over and over throughout the trip. In Leningrad I learned there were two lines for taxis, one for women and children and the other for the rest of us. At the hotel they asked for our passports. Visions of the KGB jumped int my head. When I refused, I was told no hotel room so I gave in. Yup, I gave in that quickly. We had a tour guide. In those days everyone had a tour guide. We liked her. She brought us to the Hermitage Museum. Women sat in chairs in every room at the Hermitage, and it was the same in every museum. They also sat at the bottom of escalators in every metro station and on every floor in the hotels where we stayed. We saw the Winter Palace and Peterhof and the Peter and Paul Fortress. We saw a memorial commemorating the Siege of Leningrad. On buses, the honor system was in effect. At the hotel, the food was terrible. We went to a few Beryozka shops, which no longer exist, where you could buy Russian goods for hard cash. We bought snacks and some beautiful small wooden figures.

When it was time to move to our next stop, we got a new guide. We didn’t like her. She told us nothing and didn’t answer questions. We then got on the train which the Frenchman, a fellow tourist, likened to a cattle car in France. We were on to stop 2, a city on the Volga whose name I can’t remember for good reason. The tours in that city included a dental school and a publishing plant where they gave us all sorts of Lenin material. It was the worst.

We had more adventures, but I’ll save those for another day. I will say we had a spy who was uncovered in Moscow.

“Dear beautiful Spring weather, I miss you. Was it something I said?”

February 16, 2014

It was quite a shock when I looked out the back door last night and saw branches from the pine tree hanging over the deck and scraping against the house and door. The snow was heavy and wet, and though there was a forty mile an hour wind, the branches barely moved loaded down as they were with piles of snow. I got worried about the huge branches near the door and went out with my broom and started whacking the closest branches with the metal part of the broom. The snow was knocked off the branches onto my head and down the neck of my sweatshirt. Of course it was. The branches were right over my head. I have no idea why that shocked me. It was inevitable. As I was whacking, I nearly fell a couple of times because the snow on the deck was so slippery. I did the best I could and then went inside. Twenty minutes later I looked and the branches were again drooping on the deck so out I went with the broom and whacked the branches yet again, and I got wet, again. I was Sisyphus with snow and a broom instead of a rock.

We got about 8″ of heavy, icy snow. I walked across what used to be a lawn to get my papers though walking doesn’t quite describe the trek. Plodding and tiring do as the snow had drifted and was just a bit below my knees. I had to slam the snow top with my feet to make a path. On the way back I walked in the same steps I had made and thought of Danny in the maze in The Shining doing it to hide from his crazed father. When I got into the house, I couldn’t see. The sun on the snow is so bright I was blinded for a bit. I called Skip and warned him about the branch resting on my deck. He didn’t sound enthused.

Only half of my street is plowed, that would be the other half, the one not near my house.