Shield that slippery phone
It’s dark, and it’s cold, and I wonder if I could repurpose the beast. Not likely. It doesn’t blow, and I have to provide the push. My lawnmower. Time to bring it inside and keep it (out of sight, out of mind) through the upcoming winter. I’d suggested the task to someone else; he misunderstood, thinking I wanted it to do a final tour of the property under a drizzle. No. The grass will die, and next spring we’ll chop it into something similar to fertilizer.
The hose has been summarily kicked under the deck, until the need to refill the pool arises. I’ve never considered repurposing the pool; a circular curling rink, perhaps? No, the hose is also (out of sight, out of mind) stowed until summer.
The transit company did it again. Changed the route without prior notice, leaving a baker’s dozen of us standing at sundown, wondering why we weren’t escaping our daytime world. I took another bus, and called customer service. There, they knew nothing. And in their way of seeing the world, if they didn’t know about a deviation it didn’t exist. Full stop. Those of us who were left (not behind, just) there were simply uninformed of the reality (alternate) chosen by a driver who didn’t know any better.
I “unwrapped” one of the iPhone 5C series this morning (destined for a school principal). Slippery. Small. Did I properly bold the slippery label? In my case, I had a new OtterBox to add to the bulk and viscosity. Whew! Strong mental image of a new phone falling to the floor as I tried to hand it off to the new owner (now prevented).
And a highway sent us a letter, today. Tolls due for a trek through the wilds of Ontario South.
