Multiplicity

Well, now.

As can be expected if you read this site enough, things are about to get complicated.

Kelly sent me a note inviting me down to North Carolina for the weekend. Much as I hate the idea of traveling on Memorial Day, I think this beats sitting home with the cats, so I'll go. She has a small cottage down there and was nice enough to offer, so I'm going.

Out of nowhere, another possibility has emerged. Not for this weekend -- once I say I'm going to do something, I stick to as, as per my New Year's Eve sterile date -- but for something beyond that. This young lady, as yet unnamed, is relocating to the DC area soon now that she's out of graduate school, and has taken a keen interest in me. She had also invited me to come visit her where she is now, but I had already told Kelly I'd spend the weekend (or at least part of it) with her. Still, June offers some possibilities. She will be down here visiting some friends who live up in Boonsboro, eleven miles from my house. I think it's really time for me to call in cleaners to catch up on the cat hair and dust in my house. Time has come today.

Speaking of time, it has been forever since I saw what I saw this morning: I was going to work, and out on Route 67, going the other way, was a 1926 Bentley 3-liter, the two-seater "Speed" model. No, of course you have no idea what I'm talking about, do you? Picture the car that John Steed drove in The Avengers back in the 1960s. The old one. A lot like that, only the smaller, earlier model. I tried finding a picture of one just like this one on the net, and failed.

In any case, it's a pretty strange sight to see someone driving an eighty-year-old car near me. An eighty-year-old British racing car, no less. It had a really nice exhaust sound, sort of like a really, really hot tractor.