what a day
Joan Rivers died and a jury found the former governor of Virginia and his wife guilty of a whole mess of corruption charges.
There, that's the headlines taken care of.
In more local news, the county came and took away the handicapped parking signs that had reserved the curb space in front of the house for the late previous owner, so we can park more comfortably in front of our own house now. (We have been able to squeeze both cars between one sign and the driveway next door, but only because we both drive Minis. And if we parked nose-to-tail, the tail car couldn't get anything out of the trunk.)
Additionally, I have worked out how to be sure I can always get a seat on the metro on the way to work in the morning. I board at the sixth stop from the end of the line--but some trains only go as far as five stops from the end of the line. On the other side of the line, some trains only go as far as three(ish) stops from the end. One day last week, I realized, hey, if I get on a train that originates at Shady Grove, I'm going to have to stand all the way in to work; but if I get on a train that originates at Grosvenor, it won't have had time to fill up by the time I get on, and I'll definitely get a seat. But, alas!, the signs only tell me where the trains are going, not where they're coming from!--until a light bulb went off and I thought, surely the train won't go from the very end of one side of the line to the short end of the other. That is: the trains either go all the way from Shady Grove to Glenmont, or they go from Grosvenor to Silver Spring. Like the amino acids in DNA, they do not change partners. In short: if I get on a Silver Spring-bound train in the morning, I will be assured of getting a seat. And because the sign boards tell us the destinations of the next three trains, I can always tell if it's worth skipping a Glenmont-bound train if there's one in front of me. \o/
Unpacking continues. Oof.
There, that's the headlines taken care of.
In more local news, the county came and took away the handicapped parking signs that had reserved the curb space in front of the house for the late previous owner, so we can park more comfortably in front of our own house now. (We have been able to squeeze both cars between one sign and the driveway next door, but only because we both drive Minis. And if we parked nose-to-tail, the tail car couldn't get anything out of the trunk.)
Additionally, I have worked out how to be sure I can always get a seat on the metro on the way to work in the morning. I board at the sixth stop from the end of the line--but some trains only go as far as five stops from the end of the line. On the other side of the line, some trains only go as far as three(ish) stops from the end. One day last week, I realized, hey, if I get on a train that originates at Shady Grove, I'm going to have to stand all the way in to work; but if I get on a train that originates at Grosvenor, it won't have had time to fill up by the time I get on, and I'll definitely get a seat. But, alas!, the signs only tell me where the trains are going, not where they're coming from!--until a light bulb went off and I thought, surely the train won't go from the very end of one side of the line to the short end of the other. That is: the trains either go all the way from Shady Grove to Glenmont, or they go from Grosvenor to Silver Spring. Like the amino acids in DNA, they do not change partners. In short: if I get on a Silver Spring-bound train in the morning, I will be assured of getting a seat. And because the sign boards tell us the destinations of the next three trains, I can always tell if it's worth skipping a Glenmont-bound train if there's one in front of me. \o/
Unpacking continues. Oof.