IndemnityA friend of mine just moved into a new apartment in a new place, a new state: a new home. A responsible sort, one of the things on the todo list was the acquisition of renter's insurance. They were somewhat amused to discover that, should some chunk of spacecraft re-enter our skies and cause damage to their residence, they are covered. There is no distinction between craft made by men and craft made by others, but it would not surprise me if those setting the tables have thought about it. The actuarial world is a weird one.
I riposte with this: as part of the policy on this place, amongst other things, I am insured against any damage done by a volcano. I do not make too much noise about the relevant geographic location of these writings, but it is simple to discover, more or less. If you are lazy, I will tell you: I do not have much to fear from volcanism here. But I'm covered.
It is getting cooler in the evenings. A harvest moon rose high last night, starting amber and turning bone white upon climbing. The air tastes like autumn, moves like autumn, and soon I'll have to think about turning on the furnace. Soon I'll have to shut out the sounds of the yard and hill, return the house to the cloture of the colder months. This is good: the oven is happily hot, roasting a pan of beets. There are covers on the bed. This is bad: soon I'll have to close all the windows.
But not tonight.
All content under copyright by the author. Dancing is permitted. The strange deltic glyphs in the sand under tidal flow are a pleasure to watch in their deepening. Offer not valid in Kansas. We put it down and then we lost it. It all happens in the corner of the eye. Mail accepted for the bears in the basement. We have a dog, but we do not own it. Thank you.