And we'll both sit down together, love, to hear the nightingale sing

[sovay]

Hello, nightingale! Goodbye, sleep! Shut up, Keats!

Thanks to a broken water main in Weston, none of the tap water in Lexington is drinkable unless boiled. The same if you want to wash your hands—although apparently you can shower in it. I am not sure how this fine distinction is supposed to work, but as I spent my day faring forth on errands and returning to yardwork, I think I'll just shower very quickly and try not to osmose.

Can anyone recommend a good biography of the Duke of Wellington?

Comments

[ap-aelfwine.livejournal.com]

Nah. Everywhere east of Weston but Cambridge is exempt.

Ah, that's too bad. I just did a google to see how Cambridge escaped.* Sneaky of them, having their own water department.**

Any day now we'll invade them and take their water, thus triggering the ultimate fragmentation of Boston into the numerous warring city-states whose territorial and political battles comprised most of the first half of the twenty-first century.

Sort of like a Massachusetts version of The Napoleon of Nottinghill, only darker and edgier? Would I were living in the 23rd century--I'd probably enjoy reading the histories.

So, I suppose this means we can expect a flood of refugees into neighbouring states? Even if CT is a bit far for refugees from the Former Boston, I'd not be surprised to see a resultant Völkerwanderung causing populations displaced from southern Massachusetts to spill over the border into northern Connecticut.

*Well, more to see if I was understanding the geography involved, but it wound up serving two purposes.†
**And Fresh Pond's involved? Every time I hear of that place, part of me says "Wait, that's where the House of Lord Monboddo, the Interrogator of Boston, is located." I'm glad I didn't read Alexander Jablokov's Carve the Sky until I was in my twenties--if it had sunk any further into my psyche, I might be in real trouble.
†Which is, needless to say, much better than serving two porpoises. After all, there's two possible interpretations of the latter, one of which involves eating cute and friendly cetaceans and the other of which combines all the usual problems of serving two masters with the added difficulty of deciphering their squeaks, chirps, pops, and whistles.