Date: Thu, 23 Feb 1995 06:17:29 -0700
Title: It's the WATER?

I went shopping with Sis yesterday.  It's always interesting
to go with her whether she's buying shoes or scarves.  She
has such a varied taste in clothing that it's impossible to
predict what she will choose in the way of color or style.
She has this one pair of jeans which have several patches on
them, subtle stripes on each and each subtly different in
color and style.  When she wears them people stare at the
patches as if trying to make out what they are or what they
say.  Weird, but it's Sis.

When we got back from UTC Mall she invited me in for a
mocha (with fresh whipped cream, by the way!) and of course
I accepted. When I walked into her apartment it was as if
I was suddenly buried in past and recent memories.  Her
collection of trophies had expanded but as I perused them
it was the bicycle pedal which jarred me.

"I have been told my mochas are special, and it's because
I use a special blend of coffees, chocolates and especially
because of the water.  Do you remember where I get the water?"

le.the \'le--the-\ \'le--the--*n, li-'the--\ n [L, fr. Gk Le-the-, fr.
   le-the- forgetfulness; akin to]Gk lanthanein to escape notice,
   lanthanesthai to forget - more at LATENT cap  1: a river of Hades whose
   water according to Greek mythology causes forgerfulness of the past in
   those who drink it 2: OBLIVION, FORGETFULNESS often cap  - le.the.an aj.

I was holding the twisted, scarred bicycle pedal, which I had picked
up from the very bottom of her collection of trivia. "No, these
days I'm having a difficult time keeping track of where I am, much
less where you get your imported water.  Cypress, wasn't it?"

So THURSDAY's here and so is the wondrous weather of OUR
SD County!  Hope you're able to enjoy it to the fullest.

love ya,

de



----------------------------------************----------------------------
Dick Ellis, Librarian
San Diego Supercomputer Center
(619)534-5171 (voice)
(619)534-5117 (fax)
dellis@sdsc.edu

        "Go Moan for Mankind..."
            J. Kerouac