Just put up, fresh after midnight…
Just put up, fresh after midnight…
Sophie the dog was exceptionally nervous all night, wanting to be let out and in, and whuffing and barking at me the rest of the time. Just now, I heard the reason for all of her nervous energy: coyotes, the local pack, at least five of them and probably more around ten. Their yelps are somewhere on the continuum between dog-bark and siren. Once you hear them, you can’t mistake them for dogs barking.
Then, a few minutes later, sirens. So, Sophie is inside, and we are shut away from their howls, and from whatever caused their howls.
I sit here late at night on a cold and rainy midnight, readjusting my fingers to the Macintosh’s keyboard. I am not yet ready to hunker down into the partial hibernation that one goes into in the winter time. I look for color when the outer world is drained of it. Today there are maples whose color is so full of flame that the sight of them startles you even when you are expecting to see them.
The boiler is clanking away down in the basement, and now the house feels like the inside of a great tea kettle just about to boil.
Satchel the Cat was visiting the vet’s today — his stomach has been bothering him a bit, Buck says, but he eats just fine when I feed him. I might think that he was going to miss summer as much as I do, but he never goes outside, so the notion of what season it is is moot for him.
And now, sleep.
This was exactly my opinion last night while I was watching the debate. The constant repetition of “my friends” was spooking me out, but I didn’t think anyone else had noticed it, until I read the following.
Dear Senator McCain:
Repeatedly calling me and everyone else in the United States “my friends” is extremely annoying. In part, it’s just an irritating phrase. Beyond that, I’m not your friend. I don’t know you, and, from what I know of you, I don’t even really like you. Sorry to focus on such superficialities when the world economy is going to Hell, but you probably lost more votes with your constant repitition of “my friends” than from anything Obama said.
One thing that I have learned this past week, when I have been busy not posting to the blog, is that Boulder has to be the capital of sushi-making in the world. I think that we here have to have more sushi restaurants per capita than, say New York City.
Our current favorite sushi restaurant is Sushi Zanmai. We have been there for dinner the past two nights. They make a lovely Kobe beef sushi, and I must have eaten them out of their stock of Kobe beef. We sit at the sushi counter so we can keep an eye out on our food while it’s being made.
I also love this city because I’m believing this place is imbuing me with health. I look and feel healthier than I looked and felt before the cancer diagnosis. I figure that that’s a good thing no matter how you look at it.
Tea is coming, and then I decide on a yoga class. Yoga helps me to write; at least, that’s the story that I’m going with now.
(ps: that’s not my own picture at the top… I’m trying a new service called tagaroo.)
Breck shared his opinions of the Field Notes:
“You can see for yourself below how much pride of provenance DDC/CP take in their product. When manufacturers put this all out there, you know they believe in what they’re doing. Sometimes the product is still junk (I’m looking at you, Tom’s of Maine GingerMint toothpaste. Why wait all night to develop morning breath when you can just squeeze it straight from a tube?), but it’s still nice to see sources and methods listed.
Other printing on this book includes absolutely perfectly proportioned and placed blocks to put owner info, record the dates of use, and offer or decline to offer a reward if lost and found…”
I must start out this blog post by admitting a thing that might make me either very popular here in Cincinnati, or, possibly, unpopular: we have electrical power at our house.
Ever since Monday’s infamous “deluge” by the remnants of hurricane Ike, with huge windstorms and much power outage, the most common question around here is “Do you have power?”
We came home, slowly but surely, yesterday, to find out that we did have power at our house. We came home slowly because, on Sunday when the windstorm hit, we were in a plane in the region of Knoxville, flying home from Ft. Lauderdale. Thus, since the Cincinnati airport was closed, we were rerouted to Atlanta where, as you saw, we stayed the night.
Further slowness in our arrival was caused by a huge fallen tree totally blocking a street leading to our house. So we had to walk the last quarter mile, dragging suitcases behind us, suitcases whose wheels are now probably permanently embedded with twigs from said tree. Several people stopped their cars to say hi and to welcome us home. Our friend Steve and Peter’s friend Betsy arrived at our house as we did, to help check on things.
Amount of damage: many twigs in yard. Many still-green leaves. Two limbs from giant oak broke, one fallen on our roof, and one still hanging from the tree. Apparently no damage to the roof, not nasty damage anyway.
So here we sit, listening to the not-storm (i.e. quiet) out of our window, with the frequent addition of power saw sounds in the distance.
Peter came by late last night and picked up his puppy whom he dropped off here at 7:30 in the morning, of all the odd times. He’s usually not conscious at that time, and has carefully avoided all 8 and 9 o’clock classes.
So we had a wonderful puppy for the day, and I was sad to see her go just before bedtime. Maybe we’ll turn the house into a puppy day-care, for just one puppy.
Now playing on iTunes: Teardrop from the album “Mezzanine” by Massive Attack
The night outside is ringing like a bell, thanks to the grasshoppers and crickets. The night air is warmer than I am used to it, or have been used to it in past summers.
The sun is down an hour earlier than it had been down at the height of summer, when I was still thawing out from this very cold past spring, when I never thought I’d be warm again, when I had pneumonia without even knowing it. Now I am warm again, and I have my windows open for the warmth. And the sounds.
I’d turn on the air conditioner, just to keep everything in the house from smelling of mildew, but I can’t quite bring myself to doing that just yet.
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