door bells

Two things to add to your wisdom ledger - one a receivable and one a payable. Actally, I have no idea which is which but when I typed the word ledger I immediately transformed into accounting man, circa 1981.

X brought back a wonderful set of chimes from Vermont and they've been hanging in our front yard tree for a few weeks. They're quite subtle and well-tuned (that sounds of a restaurant review) and can't actually be heard from any great distance. In fact, L. told me she can't hear them from her side of the house. Last night they seemed loudish to me whilst vaguely keeping me up around 3a; I worried that they might be bothering our neighbor so I decided to hop up, head outside, remove them from the tree, and put them on the ground for the rest of the night. Right. If you ever come upon the urge to 'gently take down some chimes in the middle of the night', rest assured that there is no way it won't sound the equivalent of strangling a cat in the middle of the night. Feel free to glance at the chimes, ponder the chimes, attempt to come up with the calculus that allows you to gently free them from their own noise - just know that it won't be quiet or pretty. There's a lot of clanging that essentially could be mistaken as a chime thief running rampant through the neighborhood.

On to doors. Our gym has one set of double doors. Every time I visit I end up waiting for X to finish yoga and I'm sitting by the doors and watching 70% of the people pull the one door that is locked. Why is the door locked? It's always the same door. Is it broken? Is there an issue with people using that door? Why even have the door? I know that somewhere within the blog is another similar story about a half-broken door in Barcelona. Who writes twice about doors in a single lifetime?