Sanna's Bag

“I never seem to have what I need when I need it. I’m going to make a belt-bag that’s bigger on the inside than on the outside, and just carry everything with me.”

Friday, October 03, 2008

last rose of summer

Above the 45th paralell, in October, with a thick cloud cover, six thirty A.M. is about as dark as the inside of a cow. Streetlights glare, oncoming headlights dazzle, and the rain sparkles like a million tiny cubic zirconiums in a pawn shop window. I don't mind the hour - but I do mind this drive in the darkness. Daylight savings time is a cruel trick perpetrated on decent working folk by high-falutin' Washington insiders who have never seen a sunrise without a night of debauchery behind it. Honest to Dog, have you even heard a farmer say, "Gee, I think it would be a swell idea to get up an hour earlier in the summer to save energy."? NO, because when he gets up that hour earlier, he has t turn on all the lights in the barn because it's still DARK!! And it's not as if the cows are wearing wristwatches and will contentedly adjust their milking schedules to accomodate the powers that be in Congress. Then, as if that weren't annoying enough, they have decided, in their infinite wisdom and don't-give-a-damn-what-you-peasants-want power, to extend the torture by another month. And why shouldn't they start a month earlier next year? Next thing you know, we'll be saving daylight all year long. After that they'll start - what to call it? A Daylight Emergency Bail-Out Program. They'll make the dark hours ninety minutes long and the daylight hours fourty five minutes long so you can accomplish more at work and really enjoy those hours of leisure. And Roxie will become a luddite and start throwing wooden shoes at the politicians. Care to join me in some sabbot-tage?

In spite of the dark and the rain, there were no traffic troubles on my stretch of freeeway, and I blew a raspberry at those two snails as I sruised past them at sixty five miles an hour. Rather startled the guy in the Dodge Caravan, but I gave him a bright smile and cupped my hand to my head to indicate I was on the phone, and he nodded and smiled back. I never get out the phone while I'm driving, but since I talk to the air, argue with the voices in my head, and dance to the radio while sitting down, I prefer that people who observe me think I'm actually plugged into a normal form of communication. Questioning my spirit guides at freeway speeds doesn't count as normal.

By 7 AM I had reached the college, and rosey-fingered Dawn was beginning to yawn, stretch, shower and pop in her contact lenses. By 7:15, there's enough light to enjoy the drive from college to jail. I can gaze across the mighty Columbia River and enjoy the view of the steaming paper plant in Camas Washington, and the way the housing developments have covered the hillside and ridgelines like eczema on an elbow. It's too darn bad that I can remember when this was all farm and forest out here in the hinterlands. Now, there are tickytacky apartments lining the edges of broccolli fields, and stately old farm houses surrounded by industrial parks. We humans have infested the place like termites in damp siding.

The jail is planted in a low and swampy place between two arms of a slough. I just love that word - slough. It's pronounced like stew, and that's what it makes me think of. Bits and pieces and leftovers with water added, then left alone to simmer a while. The sloughs are full of healthy and interesting wildlife. Unfortunatesly the inmates never get to enjoy any of it. If the jail built an outdoor exercise yard with bars all around and over it like the bear cage at the zoo, the inmates could get out and see the sky, and the beavers and possums and great blue herons would probably come and look at them. Maybe bring the kiddies. The herons might even toss 'em a fish. And the inmates would mooch sullenly around the enclosure, and refuse to interact with the critter spectators, just like the lions and tigers and bears. Oh my.

I did, in fact, manage to take in cookies to bribe the guards, and they were tickled to receive them. "You know how to make us happy!" one remarked. "Well," I replied, "This ain't my first rodeo. I know who's gonna save my backside if things get ugly, and it's not anyone in administration." All the guards laughed.

Next week, when I start baking for the knitting soiree, I'm going to make some extras to take in to the guards. Bribery is something that needs to be continued.

Seven more weeks to go.


  • At 8:14 PM , Blogger the boogeyman's wife said...

    daylight savings has always been a true mystery to me. it just changes which time of day one uses the electricity or whatever. sometimes i'd like to go back to the sundial......

  • At 9:48 PM , Blogger Willow said...

    I never did get daylight savings time. Savings for whom? How can I save daylight? It goes away every night and then comes back the next day. Don't need to save it.

    My son introduced me to a game he and his friends play: bluetooth or crazy. You see someone talking to himself and you wager guesses as to whether the person is talking on his bluetooth or is just talking to himself.

  • At 10:32 AM , Blogger Galad said...

    My daughter will be glad to know she isn't the only one that doesn't get daylight savings time.

    I'll have to remember that phone thing cause I talk to myself in the car too.

  • At 2:54 PM , Blogger Bells said...

    and it's particularly difficult when some states adopt it and some don't, as we have in Australia. Very odd state of affairs.

    I think I am going to investigate this daylight savings issue further. I confess I've never really considered what it means for the broader community.

    That rose is breathtaking. I can show you photos of mine in a month or so!

  • At 7:23 PM , Blogger Donna Lee said...

    I'm right behind you with the sabots! I'd get rid of DST in a heartbeat. It's so dark in the morning and soon will be dark when I get out of work,too. I go for days never really seeing the sun. Talk about depressing.

  • At 6:46 AM , Blogger Alwen said...

    I'd love to throw a sabot or two into DST! I can drive right up to Holland (Michigan) and buy a pair.

    I'm so old that I remember when the people talking loudly to the air were just crazy!

    I absolutely loved this post. :)

  • At 9:27 PM , Blogger Amy Lane said...

    sabbot-tage--walked right into that one! Awesome post today, Roxie--too many lovely flights of fancy and shit from the spirit guides, raining on my head to even address one at a time... too much great stuff!

    Keep bribing those guards! Don't want to get lost in that jail!

  • At 9:00 AM , Blogger Pat K said...

    I've finally gotten down to catching up on all your posts. My, you have been busy! And I guess I can sympathize with your DST woes. Arizona doesn't change with the rest of the country, and it's a bit of a shock to travel, as we were, and find the sun rising and setting at odd times. Kind of weird, actually. I like your "eczema on an elbow" comparison; there's an awful lot of that going on everywhere. Too bad we weren't docked in Oregon long enough for a visit.

  • At 10:22 AM , Blogger Lucia said...

    I actually like DST, as nightfall at 4 pm is just too gloomy for words. But I live on the east side of a time zone.

    I do admire your way with a simile.

  • At 6:15 PM , Blogger Warrior Knitter said...

    Love your imagery.


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home