For the last three days now our townhouse walls have been creaking. With all the storms and sundry meteorological fronts passing through Carrboro recently, it seems our apartment has been under constant attack from the winds. Steffi and I, ostensibly, are lucky to have an end-unit, so while we only have to suffer the occasional loud TV and barking dog from the neighbors on one side, the exposed wall of our home plays noseguard to the weather's west-side offense. When there's enough of a gale, the bricks sigh and crack, much like the sounds I would expect to hear on an artic icefield that is constantly expanding and contracting.

While I like the freaky creaky noises, I'm tired of these cold nights. Because of the below freezing temperatures, I had to pull our entire container garden into our living room this past Saturday night. Now, 10-15 clay and plastic pots, filled with soil and various vegetable seedlings, sit atop a plastic tarp in the middle of our living room. So far, the only one who seems to really like this change of scenery is our cat, Trinity, who has already sated her curiosity by sniffing vigorously at each plant and occasionally hopping into some of the larger pots. I guess we've enjoyed these ever-so-typical feline antics, so maybe it's been worth it. The moving of these 5-6 gallon containers, however, has my back sounding like the wind-blown walls.

On Saturday, with Steffi away at a Duke-UNC conference and the house devoid of any edibles, I decided to grab a late lunch at Bandido's, a Mexican restaurant island in the ocean of a downtown Carrboro parking lot. I had never been inside and was pleasantly surprised by the airy, light atmosphere and the good job the decorators had done with the block building's interior. The bottom 3 feet of the windows are frosted, preventing any view of the exterior asphalt and forcing diners to look up at the sky in order to actually see anything outside.

I took Bradbury's The October Country with me and read the story "The Crowd" before, during, and after the meal. The only reason why I mention any of this about lunch is that, during this outing, there was a moment of downright bliss, and I simply want to capture it before its memory slips away. An intense satisfaction and calm that I've missed over the last few stressful months! I realize it may sound ridiculous to experience "zen" in a cheap, Mexican restaurant, but, hey, I'll take what I can get; and never should one underestimate the power of a good book.

I finally finished The October Country on Sunday and, as is typically the case with Bradbury books, am left wondering how he does it. I can think of no better word than "magic" to describe what Bradbury can do to inspire ambience and emtion in writing. "The Emissary," a short horror story about a sick boy and his diplomat dog, "The Crowd," a piece that reminded me for some reason of something that Borges might have penned, and "The Wonderful Death of Dudley Stone" were three of my favorites in the collection. At some point I'll have to reread Something Wicked This Way Comes.

Another completion this weekend: Steffi and I polished off the DVD boxed-set of 24, the "real-time" action drama starring Kiefer Sutherland and, in later episodes, Dennis Hopper. (Hopper, whose accent is atrocious, plays a villainous Serbian madman.) Somehow we managed to watch all 24 episodes in a 9 day period, sometimes watching as many as four shows in a row. I've said this in an earlier journal entry, but the show really is fairly well-done and downright gripping, as every hour ends with a cliffhanger. Still, as we progressed into later shows in the season I found myself yelling things like "Stupid, stupid!" or "You dumb-ass!" at the TV much too frequently. Also, Steffi and I both agreed that the show - on the whole - perpetuates images of women as idiotic, flighty, deceitful, and weak. The men, on the other hand, came away as either outright villains or the ever-honest, sometimes-down-but-never-out hero. Never-the-less, a lot of fun if one can get past this typically American TV thematic.

And now to read another chapter of The Shining before calling it a day...


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Books currently under the glass:

The Flickering Mind by Todd Oppenheimer
The Shining by Steven King
Writing Horror edited by Mort Castle, HWA