When the Homily is about Immunology

Rough and Dark

Following duly established orders, I tied up the kitchen garbage and prepared to haul it out to the garbage cans neatly stored next to the barn - which is, for now, little more than a storage building.

As I kissed the abbess of the farm goodbye and began heading out in the direction of the truck, I realized something new: I could not see. The white of the Trooper could be discerned, but beyond that was utter blackness - no...not that, is was an actual void of light, which is slightly darker than black. Living in the city, or even in the suburbs you tend to forget how dark the night really is.

The barn was nowhere to be seen and as I was trying to locate it, along with a clear path to it, I nearly ran into the bike rack on the van - which only dumb luck allowed me to see before bloodying myslef upon it.

There's electricity in the barn, but the switch is ON the barn. And the outdoor lighting that marks the driveway only seems to work when some Rubic's cube-like puzzle combination of switches have been properly switched - a task we have yet to master. I opted to toss the trash in the truck and dump it when natural light afforded me the ability to see when I got back home.

Accompanying the darkness was a pretty good wind, and it reminded me that power outages are fairly common in Kitsap. Note to self: flashlights, extra water, and other emergency items need to be picked up before Fall takes further root.

The Ferry ride was more rough than any I have ever had - I ought to expect worse I am betting. Heck, a final approach in an aircraft that bounced and waved as much as that Ferry did would have been considered notably rough. What a strange commute I have.