19/30 This is a test...
29/9/13 15:51![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darkemeralds...it is only a test. If this were the actual end of the world, I would be worried about other things than getting a bag of sugar home without it dissolving in the rain.
It feels a bit world-endy, though. I committed to a car-free way of life on the grounds that Portland's famous bad weather is really just mild, damp and gray--not All-Summer-In-A-Day-levels of unbroken heavy rainfall for weeks on end.
Still, that's what we've got. Monsoons of rain. Typhoons of rain. Buffoons, spittoons, doubloons and poltroons of rain. Looney Toons of rain. It is, in a word, wet. In two words: very wet.
This climate-changed weather is a test of my commitment to bicycling as my primary mode of transportation. Today, a car would have made my errands easier. But carshare is too pricey and inconvenient for a grocery run, and Sunday bus service kind of sucks, so I donned a rain jacket and pedaled off will-she-nil-she (and I was nil-ing in my heart), and just plain got wet.
Wet streets, wet bike, wet raincoat, wet groceries
The streets are coated with twiggy, leafy, chestnutty debris--which takes from riding some of the fun that the rain has failed to squelch. The rain is as ceaseless as I've ever seen it here. My baskets are soaked. My shoes are soaked. My saddle is soaked. My hair is soaked. My phone very nearly got soaked taking silly panda shots.
Shoes and grocery basket A drying on the radiator
The sugar survived, courtesy of a plastic bag. Eleanor O is in the living room because I'm afraid the wind will blow her over if I leave her outside.
Eleanor O taking shelter from the endless storm
Ah well. The stock pot is simmering, Hungarian mushroom soup is in the works, and hey, so far, the power's still on, so there's that.
It feels a bit world-endy, though. I committed to a car-free way of life on the grounds that Portland's famous bad weather is really just mild, damp and gray--not All-Summer-In-A-Day-levels of unbroken heavy rainfall for weeks on end.
Still, that's what we've got. Monsoons of rain. Typhoons of rain. Buffoons, spittoons, doubloons and poltroons of rain. Looney Toons of rain. It is, in a word, wet. In two words: very wet.
This climate-changed weather is a test of my commitment to bicycling as my primary mode of transportation. Today, a car would have made my errands easier. But carshare is too pricey and inconvenient for a grocery run, and Sunday bus service kind of sucks, so I donned a rain jacket and pedaled off will-she-nil-she (and I was nil-ing in my heart), and just plain got wet.
Wet streets, wet bike, wet raincoat, wet groceries
The streets are coated with twiggy, leafy, chestnutty debris--which takes from riding some of the fun that the rain has failed to squelch. The rain is as ceaseless as I've ever seen it here. My baskets are soaked. My shoes are soaked. My saddle is soaked. My hair is soaked. My phone very nearly got soaked taking silly panda shots.
Shoes and grocery basket A drying on the radiator
The sugar survived, courtesy of a plastic bag. Eleanor O is in the living room because I'm afraid the wind will blow her over if I leave her outside.
Eleanor O taking shelter from the endless storm
Ah well. The stock pot is simmering, Hungarian mushroom soup is in the works, and hey, so far, the power's still on, so there's that.