Gooooood Morning

Well, I've realised that the detriment to keeping a daily paper-and-ink diary as well as a weblog is that one is always about 4 steps ahead of the other. Consequently, the current theme or undercurrent of my notebook is a bit more upbeat than that of the blog. My sincerest apologies. I forget sometimes that, often as you might get online, you are not truly able to keep up with the turn of events as quickly as they pass through my mind.

Unfortunately, I still do not want to interrupt the chronological flow of thoughts as I have them written down, so for now I'm going to simply diverge from the main body of content and offer a bit of light-hearted relief from the other half of myself that's forever trying to prove itself profound...

In a desperate attempt to encourage slumber last night, I tried, for the second time in my life, counting sheep. They were hopping over a bi-railed log fence (Who in the world thought of this?) and I'd seen the first sixteen gently lope across when number seventeen didn't get high enough off of the ground and stumbled through the upper spar, leaving it on the ground, and allowing the next dozen and a half to come through in pairs. But thirty.six and thirty-seven collided in mid-air, crashed down onto and shattered the bottom spar, and took off in opposite directions at a dead run. I managed to count up to forty-five before the flood of fluffz white tufts became indiscernible, and doyens poured through before the last trotted gaily through over the splintered rails and trodden turf.

At this point, the analytical, get-on-with-the-obvious farmer part of me took over, and I began repairing the fence. I was apparently still in Austria, judging by the deportment and outfit of the local who came ambling along just as I finished. I ws relaxing against one of the uprights, having just scooped up and downed a few handfuls of the dependably cold and pure Alpine spring water near-to-hand, and he came and rested himself against the section of fence immediately next to that which I'd just repaired.

'Say,' he began, in surprisingly good English. Unless, that is, I'd learned German since lying down, which is, of course, far more likely in Morpheus' realm. 'Have you met the Mustang girl yet?'

I knew I hadn't, as horses aren't all that common her, save for the two small ponies I saw one middle-aged farmer leading along in a village a few doyen metres up the mountain, so I replied in the negative.

'Ahh,' he replied heavily, 'You should seek her out. As an American, you'd certainly appreciate her. All seven of her dental fillings are made of some part of a melted down Ford Mustang. Her first was from a 1965 standard coupe, and she followed with one casdt from the window crank of a '66 convertible, then various parts from a '67 Fastback, a '68 GT350, a '69 GT500, a '70 Boss 302, and a '71 Mach I.'

At this point, I came fully to with a jolt, and thought, once again, 'Who the CRAP came UP with this?'

I hope your dreams are as entertaining, though perhaps easier to understand...

As I've been writing this, the landlady's 8 year old daughter and I have been teaching one another our native tongues with the aid of the website www.leo.org. I've just been told that she and her cousin operate a small library in the attic, and she's gone to fetch me a book. I am the only guest currently occupying this cozy little bed and breakfast, and have decided to stay two more nights, as tomorrow is the annual harvest festival. It seems that I may be the only non-native to the hamlet at the affair, but the family who operates the B&B, die familie Hörtnagl, have said that I can attend Mass with them in the morning, and presumably, I'll just follow them to the celebration, which is to include the fruits of the harvest, brot und käse (Bread and cheese). I wonder if they need an English teacher here...

Rob and Nick, wherever you are, safe I hope, you really ought to have stuck around longer. I wish you the best for the upcoming school year, and I pray you're made as warm and welcome wherever you find yourselves as we were here in Navis.

OH!! And to show that I do read and appreciate your comments:
Thanks Tim for encouraging me to bring the iPod (I actually bought a new one, a 'shuffle.' For what it's worth, an Altoids tin makes an ideal travel case for an iShuffle, earbuds, and lanyard to wear said iShuffle, as well as an extra camera chip or two...or it does until you forget that said tin is propping open a window and you cram the window shut, forever crimping aforementioned tin beyond usefulness...) I've found that my selection of 131 songs has definitely been more encouraging than detrimental to my situation.

Allen...never did care for the Cure, though I seem to recall that you did. Don't remember you in black eyeliner... Do have plenty of U2, though. I might write up my music list at a later date.

Brad: have taken plenty of pictures, have lost camera-to-computer cable. Drat.

Larry and Raysha: glad to see someone gave y'all the address. Did you make the reunion last weekend?

Next stops: Verona and possibly Milan, Italy. Hoorah.