And thank goodness for that! Another day in Riga and I would have joined a construction company just to feel as though I were contributing to the sluggish architecture renewal there. Too many models, not enough architects. (And they have some lovely architecture puzzles and inspirations that demand working with.)
I have a phone # for Presroi, so perhaps we can meet up during my 8-hour layover.
Update : We met up, and had a lovely chat. Everything was overly efficient on the way back... We were all buckled into our seats 30 minutes before takeoff, and had pre-takeoff snacks.
Cat hair all over my nicely varnished counter. Avast, ye fuzzy scoundrels! Wait till I get my painty hands on you... you'll spend the next hurricane out in the echo shed.
Lots of evacuees entering Houston. How can one help evacuees without integrating them wholly into a city? Is it worth trying? Why not settle them in places and quantities where they can be integrated, rather than spending money on temporary accomodations which assume they will return to a devastated home?
Most say they want to stay in Houston - 2/3 of those here. Yet all preparations for lodging (in hotels and temp apartments) and jobs (temp work, again) assume they will leave in a month or two. Is this not wasteful? Do the relocation teams ask whether people intend to go back? I would love to know.
More cat hair all over my varnish. Avast, ye pink-haired scoundrels! I must finish today, and get this faux Polish teapot cleaned up for showin' til' it gleams like a Computer Graphics final project.
I'm heading out to siphon wireless from a park seat in Harvard Yard. I love working outside... even with people and noise and the smell of popcorn around, it's just as good as being inside with padded headphones on. Sometimes the noise adds to the magic.
I just got off the phone with an old friend, whom I love more than life itself. There's no explaining that kind of love; it just warms you up when you get close to it, inspires you, offers energy and strength for nothing in return. The best kind of magic. Our conversation was of sober and at times distressing things, yet it had the same tempo and spirit as always; I will try to keep that with me for another few hours.
And warm thoughts indeed are due to the redhead and the accordionguy married just this weekend, in reputedly brilliant form; and to the stretch of perfect weather with which they graced the city. If you are reading this, however far removed in time and space, I hope you can feel a fraction of that seeping through this fragile medium.
