Monday, May 31, 2021

Each body a lion of courage and something precious to the earth

Cat of my heart

Theo died on Saturday, and it drizzled cold, cold rain all weekend.

The whole world feels, in fact, a little bit colder and flatter without this cat in it. I'm a dog person, but this guy was special. He was fine one minute and dragging his back end the next, and while Mark was on the phone to the emergency vet, I was holding and petting Theo, keeping him from attempting, alarmed, to drag himself up the stairs on his two functioning legs. I was also googling his symptoms and finding articles headlined Every Cat Owner's Worst Nightmare.

So, from fine to gone was...maybe an hour and a half? Just to explain why I can still see him slinking around the corner two days later, expect to find him beneath my downward dog or to hear him thumping down the stairs in his furry boots. He was so soft, such a kind cat who barely realized there were sharp claws inside his paws. For such a small animal, he's left a strangely large void.

Friday, May 21, 2021

Astrophysicist and lead guitarist

Things all in a day's work:


Heir apparent

Left-handed marriage

"Assassin" shares a root with "hashish."

"Asteroid Day was co-founded in 2014, by Dr. Brian May, astrophysicist and lead guitarist of QUEEN."

Other items of note:

Adam walked over for dinner last night, and I made a delicious low-FODMAP meal (one food left to test, and it's APPLE). My brother walked over for dinner last night.

It is a teenage lifeguard's job to show up for work before 7am (how early? 6?) so he can shyly ask middle-aged ladies with dogs if they could possibly come back in 8 minutes (when they say dogs allowed on the beach from 7-9, they mean it).

As I was driving home from the beach, a woman on a scooter flew through a stop sign and screeched to a halt, almost hitting my car, dropping her scooter. I hazard-lighted, jumped out, and helped her pick the scooter up. She had on platform sandals and light khaki pants, and they were barely smudged from the fall. She promised she was okay. It was definitely her mistake, but in retrospect I worried that she thought I'd run the stop sign. (Reader, I did not.)

I am fasting for fasting blood work in about an hour, and I am hungry. I am also a dumbdumb: why didn't I schedule it for 8:00 instead of 10:00?

Saturday, May 08, 2021

Bless the tongue

Electric Kool-Aid Cauliflower Test

This food thing, wow. It's going well, it's just taking forever. So far, I regret to inform you, I seem to have troubles with blackberries, avocados, and...garlic. 

In other medical news, I got a voicemail from my doctor's office confirming an appointment for my annual physical, and the medical robot lady spelled out C-O-V-I-D five times ("if you think you have been exposed to C-O-V-I-D 19, please call our office..."

I now offer you a content warning for dead animals below, along with the following story. It's about the bird in the stove, I may have hinted at this previously. We heard a bird inside the galvanized pipe that vents our (currently, and for several years) unused pellet stove. I thought maybe it was building a nest in there, and maybe that would be fine. But I was also worried it would get stuck. Mark and I dithered for a while — should we encourage it to move along? Should we leave it alone? It continued to flap around inside, and we decided we should shoo it away and take the pipe off the house and cap it so nobody else could get in there. But it wasn't in the pipe, and we could still hear it flapping around. We spent almost an hour trying to figure out where it was, using flashlights, pulling parts off the stove, and eventually disassembling the entire thing, only to find the bird had worked its way into the depths of the stupid stove and smothered to death in a little heap of ash. Mark took its little body into the front yard and tried to clean it off, tried to give it bird CPR. We both leaned over it in front of our house, weeping. 

Oh reader, it was terrible.

Since I'm on the subject of dead animals: the very next week I left an empty flower pot out in the yard during a burst of rain, and the next morning I found a wee mouse, like some character from Beatrix Potter, had perished in it. I assume it fell in and drowned before the water could drain out the bottom. 

RIP Stuart Little

I'm hoping to murder zero animals during the month of May.

Tuesday, May 04, 2021

Buttermilk sky


I love you, Wikipedia.

Wouldn't it be amazing if I could capture my own mackerel sky photo to go along with the above? I see this once every ten days or so (in fact, I just noticed it a couple of days ago on a walk with Mark and Clover) and it's one of my favorite skies, but I never had a name for it before. It's also known as buttermilk sky. Or ciel moutonnĂ© in France (fleecy sky) and Schäfchenwolken in Germany (sheep clouds). Fish scales, milk curds, curls of wool.

What an exciting few days, post-fully-vaccinated-day. On that exact day I greeted my oldest, best friend at the door of my house and then hugged her. My tears surprised me! She cried too! That was one of the best hugs of my whole life. And then just a couple of hours later, I went to the Jetport and watched reunions, crying again as I observed parents gathering their young adult daughter (I assume) into their arms, the mom and daughter sobbing audibly as they held each other. I was actually at the airport to meet one of my two beloved brothers, and it was fitting that there were already tears rolling down my face when he appeared. Just talking, indoors, masks off, with people I love who I haven't seen in person for so long, is wonderful and exhausting! 

Melissa came by for tea yesterday. We sat together and chatted and drank our tea. So normal! Like the Before Times! When she was leaving, she said, "You know what happens now, right?" And I got to have another one of those hugs.*

*Warning: I may have become a person who boo-hoos every time I'm hugged. I'm fine with it if you are.

Thursday, April 29, 2021

Sound of Metal

So loud, so quiet —
The complex layers of sound
Play a starring role