Morning:
45 degrees, raw, raining, windy, miserable. Miserable, miserable, miserable. TS Eliot wrote "April is the cruelest month..." But May is rudely elbowing its way to first place. I made the mistake of bringing up the weather with Stanley, the company janitor, who said "Well, we need the rain." I responded that I don't expect this kind of weather in May, and he said "Well, it's better than having tornados." That's typical of Stanley. He'll never engage in New England weather-bashing with you. He just comes out with "well, it's better than tornados." He wants to make you feel like a whining baby for complaining about the weather. Anyway, the photo is of my red, raw, wind-raked, freezing hand this morning.
1 comment:
I kind of like this Stanley guy. Hey, is the wise-cracking janitor a constant character in life? I mean, the names and faces change, but there's something about the ubiquitous presence of the smartass janitor. Also, what's up with a New Englander not wanting to engage in weatherbashing? I thought that was their raison d'etre.
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