The winter of my discontented heat pump.
A dream seems like reality as long as we are in it. -Carl Jung
somewhere in November.
Waking this morning i vaguely remember dreaming in darkness the sound of the heat pump invading my consciousness having noised off every half hour or so + the paying of the dreaded utility bill came into my rolling mind condensed along w/ vivid memories of an iron maiden thump thump thumping w/ bruised tar laden lungs w/ distorted breath triggering + shuddering — oh my — this tactful conditioning we have of a sound modifying itself into our mind that will plummet whatever hope of leveling the playing field for the coming day + as it is barely cold enough outside to leave a watery frost on the inside of the windows that i have quilted over opaque for the rest of the wintery part of the year yet still needing to plant a bit of spring when there is a break to 41 degrees on saturday.
heat pumps don't work for shit up here when it's -40 f. Spring is a lovely thought
ReplyDeleteHa! Always the way. They lie in wait until it's most inconvenient.
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