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

Monday, April 12, 2021

The smallest color of the smallest day

I made notes to myself about what I was going to write here:

the bird in the stove
the dogs about town

The dogs about town? No idea. But the bird in the stove is a sad story, too sad for today. Today is for Internet Archaeology!

In the course of my actual paid work, I see some things. (Here I imagine what these things would be if I were, say, an ER surgeon or a tugboat captain or a private investigator.) What follows is just a small sampling of those things.

DO YOU SEE the ugly pants the Internets are trying to sell me?

I have no idea where this came from, but it seems about right.


DIY inspo

Local reviews:

I agree, far too many minimulistic arsthetic box types buildings


How fortunate I am that in this life I am one who has been allowed to create beauty with nap.

Monday, March 22, 2021

Pretend it's spring

On the beach, a sweet puppy named Townes, browned butter-colored with patches of white, a white heart on top of his head. "My boyfriend just learned to play Pancho and Lefty on his guitar," said the puppy's person. "That song makes me cry," I said, my eyes welling with tears. 

I raked leaves all weekend, revealing sweet-smelling dirt and the surviving crocuses just barely peeking through the earth (the ones the squirrels didn't eat in the fall). A cluster of tiny green shoots had exploded with purple blossoms by the end of the day, like magic.

Someone in my elderly next door neighbor's house was playing the violin. I couldn't hear it, but I could see through the window.

I took off my jacket! Ate my lunch in the yard! Even made an afternoon iced coffee! Fifty-five fucking degrees!!