Thursday, November 6, 2014

Another dying pigeon


The Revolutionary Communists are still hard at work….

Sean has complicated issues. He’s ready to go back into the system. He’s got way too much stuff here. I have no idea where he’s going to stash it, but it can’t be here…

We’re struggling to get the boiler back on. Trying to get the company that installed it out to handle all the big and small  issues people have turned up. The coldness takes me back to those early days of being back here when we had no heat at all and braved our way through until the last day of the year when we finally got the new boiler on.

Late in the day, I’m startled when a pigeon walks in while I’m talking to Charles. Seems to be sick. Or have a broken neck. I’m half afraid he’s going to die. When they’re walking around like this, they’re already halfway gone. We get him to leave the office and eventually get back to the steps. I go out to check several times, his neck at an absurd angle. The last time I check, he’s finally gone. I’m alright with that. But I find these dying pigeon moments ominous and depressing.

Off to Junia’s opening at the Banco de Brasil….


Pat O in to review the latest developments with contractors and boilers and prospective tenants.

Another personal transformation person is looking to rent the gym, long term. We’ve got all these interested parties. It’s like a mobile with too many moving pieces to figure out how to deal with it all. Make it all work. Or not.

Tom Bo is in with his baritone, Roland Burkes. They’re  working on both the music and the choreography for the refrigerator box piece. And the whole pre-worship concert. Working on a oath that takes Roland through  my office and into the sanctuary. This is getting so involved. Now all we have to do is draw a crowd. On a Sunday morning.

Trish is doing her load out from Othello. Stops in to talk. About Shakespeare. The building. The spirit here. Her future plans.

And as the afternoon falls into darkness, Karen’s piano is a glowing light in the dark sanctuary.

Oh, and she’s got a bid for the pigeon tower.

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