13 August 2005 (yesterday) (tomorrow)

I started the day with a cup of coffee at the farmer's market.  This time, it was the husband who sold it to me.  I also bought a loaf of white bread from a mennonite for $1.50.

In Tony's Grill, a thin, young blonde man with acne kept interrupting the book I was reading to apologize for the amount of time my breakfast was taking. 

On the television suspended from the ceiling to my left, I read the closed-captioning of a news story about dreams.  The editor had covered the story with somewhat creative b-roll.  This b-roll included the image of a thalidomide child with two large, thick fingers on each arm playing the piano.  This was meant to represent your dreams.

In the afternoon, I edited footage of a tractor spraying chemicals on a corn field at night. In several shots, the noise of the machine streaked across the frame with an eerie doppler effect.  From the kitchen, I could hear water running as Curt washed the dishes.  The sound of the water somehow acquired the same doppler sound.

Amy toasted two slices of the mennonite's bread and gave them to me with some homemade sugar-free raspberry jam.

Curt helped me look through the mass of frozen items in the freezer for a good cut of venison.  After some digging, he came across two large deer chops which I defrosted in the oven.  I grilled them out back and ate them with rhubarb compote.  The flesh was sweet and tender.

When I returned to the dorm, I decided to walk down to the basement.  I fiddled with the TV and found a Night Court marathon on TV Land.   I watched four or five episodes, relishing the experience of a television show my friends talked about but my parents never let me watch.