![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
New Toy Plus RIP Toby
Nov. 13th, 2018 06:37 amWent out running very late in the day.
Preceded by the usual internal remonstrances:
Go Thou! (Biblical peal of thunder.)
But I don’t wanna go—
But Thou musteth go!
Etcetera.
When I got to the park, it was very dark. Partly because it was so late in the afternoon, but partly because there was this very high fog, most unusual in these parts, like a ceiling of smoke. (Sympathy for our stricken California sistren and bretheren!)
The day before when I went out running, America’s Oldest Ginko Tree looked like this:
But yesterday, it looked like this:
As though all the color in the grey universe had pooled into those fallen leaves.
And I thought: I want to be able to take pictures that show the world the way I see it! because clearly these photographs don't.
And I finished my run, and I came home, and I bought the muy expensive iPhone.
Because hey! I love to take pictures, and I’m never gonna buy another standalone camera again, and this iPhone has a very, very good camera.
And I don’t give a shit what my car looks like, or how old it is, or what people think when I park it next to their 2018 Prius so long as it gets good gas mileage (it does!) and it’s in good enough mechanical shape to transport me to the places I want to go. Whereas I do give a shit how the pictures I take turn out.
Of course, I was kind of paralyzed for several hours after I completed the transaction.
Though I think it was the right thing to do.
I have been obsessing about that iPhone for months.
###
Also, Lorraine—girlfriend of hunky Ken who lives across the street—had her dog Toby put to sleep.
Toby never failed to bark at me whenever I would encounter him on his walks, but I knew he was only doing his job—Protect Lorraine!—so that was okay.
Toby was a big burly guy. A black lab but built more like a Rottweiller. Kind of a doofus. Lorraine had raised him from a pup so it was very hard on her. I’d noticed he wasn’t himself this last few months. Lorraine filled me in on all the medical details as I stood chatting with her by the mailboxes, but I fear they went in one ear and out the other because the only pertinent info was: Toby! Once Not Dead. Now Dead!
Rest in peace, Tobes! Say “hi” to Milo when you see him. You were a good dog.
Preceded by the usual internal remonstrances:
Go Thou! (Biblical peal of thunder.)
But I don’t wanna go—
But Thou musteth go!
Etcetera.
When I got to the park, it was very dark. Partly because it was so late in the afternoon, but partly because there was this very high fog, most unusual in these parts, like a ceiling of smoke. (Sympathy for our stricken California sistren and bretheren!)
The day before when I went out running, America’s Oldest Ginko Tree looked like this:
But yesterday, it looked like this:
As though all the color in the grey universe had pooled into those fallen leaves.
And I thought: I want to be able to take pictures that show the world the way I see it! because clearly these photographs don't.
And I finished my run, and I came home, and I bought the muy expensive iPhone.
Because hey! I love to take pictures, and I’m never gonna buy another standalone camera again, and this iPhone has a very, very good camera.
And I don’t give a shit what my car looks like, or how old it is, or what people think when I park it next to their 2018 Prius so long as it gets good gas mileage (it does!) and it’s in good enough mechanical shape to transport me to the places I want to go. Whereas I do give a shit how the pictures I take turn out.
Of course, I was kind of paralyzed for several hours after I completed the transaction.
Though I think it was the right thing to do.
I have been obsessing about that iPhone for months.
###
Also, Lorraine—girlfriend of hunky Ken who lives across the street—had her dog Toby put to sleep.
Toby never failed to bark at me whenever I would encounter him on his walks, but I knew he was only doing his job—Protect Lorraine!—so that was okay.
Toby was a big burly guy. A black lab but built more like a Rottweiller. Kind of a doofus. Lorraine had raised him from a pup so it was very hard on her. I’d noticed he wasn’t himself this last few months. Lorraine filled me in on all the medical details as I stood chatting with her by the mailboxes, but I fear they went in one ear and out the other because the only pertinent info was: Toby! Once Not Dead. Now Dead!
Rest in peace, Tobes! Say “hi” to Milo when you see him. You were a good dog.
