If it's yellow, let it mellow.

I am having trouble finding a permanent place to live. They are putting me up in temporary housing for a month, and then I'm on my own. Trouble is, school just started and most of the available rentals have been taken by the teachers. (Darn teachers!) I also don't quite know how to do this without the Internet. I've never found an apartment without craigslist!

Most of my leads have been word of mouth, like...I was at Saturday Market and happened upon the Register to Vote table. While I filled out paperwork, the lady and I got to chatting, and it so happens she has a friend who has a rental and is looking for someone. She gave me the number, but you see, the owner was about to leave for a moose hunt (it's always something) and won't be back for who knows how long...7 days, 10 days maybe, who knows? She'll call me when she gets back.

So goes the apartment search.

Meanwhile, I've been enjoying my walk to the hospital. I pass a dark purple house with a giant Tweety Bird painted on the side, a yard of sled dogs that bark at me as I go by, the county jail that appears to have disturbingly little security, and this lovely lawn ornament. I'm not gonna lie - it makes my day every time!

It's especially appropriate, as there is complex bathroom etiquette here. I'm still learning. First of all, if it's yellow, let it mellow; if it's brown, flush it down. After I repeatedly violated that rule, I made the following sign for myself on available scrap paper; it now sits atop the toilet as a reminder:

See, most of the town is not on city water, so the houses get water delivered twice a month. If you run out of water, that's it, until the next delivery. Apparently a rule of etiquette when you go to someone's house is to ask, "Can I flush your toilet?" Call me a prude, but I wasn't thrilled with the idea of peeing on top of someone else's pee. I think I'm used to it now, but I have a feeling my new home will provide ample fodder for scatological humor in the months to come.

I must be adapting.