A one-time school project gone terribly, terribly wrong.

22 July 2008

All Quiet on the Metro Front, July 22nd, 2008

Or possibly July 22, 2008. One of the big editorial conflicts at work is that I like to write as things are read. Who reads a dateline "July twenty-two, two thousand and eight"?

By this you shall know that the Metrolife has lately been fairly tranquil.I work, albeit reluctantly. I play freeroll poker with rather more enthusiasm, and I sail like a mad fool at every opportunity.

The garden has tended itself reasonably well in my absence, I observe. Which is perfect. I have never wished to do more nor less than simply stick seeds in the ground and eat whatever comes up ... of course one must make allowances for the vagaries of such crops as potatoes and carrots.

The deer got in at my grape vine just as the first clusters appeared. Still, I have anointed the yard with cougar piss (and no, this did not involve getting Raincoaster bombed) and other assorted predator urine--supposedly a magical panacea against interloping ungulates.

I was trying to break the top ten at my local poker league. Thanks in large part to Mme Metro's ridiculous insistence on having something she calls a "relationship" (I'm married to her--how much more relatioship can we have?) I was prevented from reaching that goal, hitting a peak rank of 13 before dropping to 17 this week. Fortunately, that was enough to get me into the regionals, as the league expanded the number of players each region could send.

My sailboat is reassembled. Unfortunately the multiple layers of paint and glue have added substantial weight. She's tighter than she's ever been--after riding her for three hours I saw only a few ounces of moisture building up in her bottom, and when I turned her over I was able to flip her right over again without her going down on me.

Uh ... let me clarify:

The boat doesn't leak.

I can "self-rescue". That is, when I tip the boat over on purpose I can right her by myself and clamber back into her.

The weight is an issue though, as I seem to be carrying less sail area than anyone else, so I travel more slowly. I finished third in a field of five last week, behind the very two people I most need and desire to beat.

So it's off to the local hardware place for yards of "house wrap" ... or possibly just some other similar material. I'm having thoughts about clear poly for a see-through sail. I'd have to wear a lot more sunscreen, though.

I spend as much time as I can at the beach, and I am hopeful that Mme Metro has become more enthusiastic--she's not a beach person, but has displayed remarkable willingness, among other willingnesses, to haul my boat onto the roof rack so that I can sail away for hours on end, and I want her to know, here and now, that I appreciate and love her all the more for it.

I find myself wishing that all my friends had concerns as trivial as mine.


At 12:39 a.m., Anonymous G Eagle Esq said...

Monsieur Metro et Senor FFE


You may perhaps enjoys Guido Fawkes today (Thursday) quoting Mr Coren on sub-editors !!!!

Your obedient servant etc



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