“It is certain that when he makes water,
his urine is congealed ice.”
Shakespeare’s
Measure for Measure (III.ii.106)
Ice Water
Passing the corner, while driving in Austin, I slipped through the light at the corner of South Congress and Riverside. When I use the term, “old stomping grounds,” it means literally, I walked all over that area, on foot, and I guess, grounds could refer to the coffee shops, Jo’s, Texpresso, Little City, the
Hideout. Texas Coffee Roasters was in there, too, back then. That’s some buried memories.
The was one summer’s day, early in the
double-aughts, I would loop the
Town Lake Hike & Bike Trail crossing in a figure 8 fashion, and stopping at the little store that was then at that corner. I pulled a water bottle out of the small refrigerator, paid for that, and a hot dog that was long-past its “sell-by” date, but still a meal at that time.
Walking towards a trailer park, I scarfed the hotdog, then cracked open the water bottle, taking a tentative swig. Cold water trickled into my mouth, but then so did a small granular ice chip. The surface of the water itself iced over, momentarily plugging the top.
That water, under pressure, was obviously kept a few degrees below freezing so when I released the pressure, cracking open that cap, the solution becomes a solid. Plain, ordinary physics.
Singular
memory that stretches back to a rather fertile time in my own life, living online and at the water’s edge, active and out-of-doors more often than not.
Ice Water
To accommodate family, I was using more salt than I’m used to using, in the meal I was fixing. I tend to shy way from salt, but I had added more than my usual amount, which, in turn made me thirsty.
I grabbed a full, sealed water bottle from the back of my refrigerator, and cracked it open. Took a long pull. Set it down, and went back to the cooking thing. Turning around to take another sip, the top of the water bottle was frozen, bringing back eery memories from distant old Austin.
It’s possible to expand on the idea of the pressure differentials, the way the water froze after the seal was broken, or how the refrigerator was running too cold.
Then, that corner in Austin some seriously prime real estate, never seems to have made it past the dingy corner-store that used to be an old-school gas station.
Those Austin memories run deep — for me — because that’s where I got started when it was a creative stew-pot, perfect for cooking up ideas.
Ice Water
Mercury, in apparent retrograde pattern?
First, there’s a deep dive into the old memories, just glimpse of a place, and the memories it unleashes, all comes tumbling out. There is that.
Then, too, there’s the notion that maybe the bottled water shouldn’t freeze when unsealed, and maybe I need to adjust the settings.
With the current conditions? Might freeze. Might be deliciously cold
ice water.
the Portable Mercury Retrograde
Used that quote before:
3-24-2005.
