Wild Romance

No, I haven't started watching adults-only films, but there's some pretty racy stuff going on out there.  I must have some kind of sleeping sickness even though I don't think there are any tsetse flies in Fair Play.  I cannot keep my eyes open during the day and still sleep through the night.  What's up with that?  Anyhow, on those brief occasions when I woke up yesterday, I kept seeing a couple of California scrub jays running back and forth on the deck railing.  Were they chasing bugs, or maybe fighting?  Um, no.  The smaller, and I assume the female, would squat down and flutter her wings, a little more provocative than her nonexistent eyelashes.  The larger male would make a dash toward her and the little minx would run away.  Frustrated, the male would run back on the railing and the female would chase after him, "Hey, baby, I was just kidding!"  I can't tell you how this flirtation ended because I fell asleep.  Use your imagination.

I really wanted to watch the Democratic debate last night, but woke up after it was over.  Maybe I'll have better luck tonight.  Or not.  After a brief, wishful search, I fell back to sleep.  Sigh.

Late News

To early morning readers, my apologies.  Woke up in the recliner at 4 a.m., decided it was too late to go to bed but too early to do anything else, so went over and stretched out on the couch.  I just woke up.  It's nearly 7, the sun is shining, and the day is half over.  Best of intentions and all that....

I saw on the news that plans are underway to build a two-mile gondola ride between the big ski resorts in Lake Tahoe.  That got me thinking about my mother (and father).  There were probably no two people farther apart in their approach to life.  How they got together in the first place is and was beyond me.  Mother was  reader, I don't think Daddy ever picked up a book.  Mother had a bizarre sense of humor, Daddy could retell funny jokes he'd heard, but had no sense of humor of his own.  Mother had a wish for adventure, Daddy stuck to the tried and true.  But I digress.

We three had gone on one of our road trips up to either Big Bear or Lake Arrowhead at the end of the winter season.  There were no skiers, but the ski lift was still operating and Mother said she'd never been on one and wanted to go, taking me along, of course.  If I heard him say it once, I heard it a thousand times, "Craziest thing I've ever heard," and Daddy wouldn't go.  "Come on, Babe," and Mother and I got on the chair lift (this was way before gondolas) and zoomed away.  Yeah, well.  The lift got stuck about halfway up the mountain, dangling us over a chasm, and then it started snowing.  Mother might have had second thoughts about this adventure.  Me?  I thought it was pretty exciting.  Daddy was frantic with worry when we finally got back down.  Poor Daddy.

Most of the news is depressing these days, but once in awhile it can bring back memories.  The sun is well up, the coffee mug is empty, and I am late, late, late.  What else is new?

The Watchers

Unless he is sleeping, GB watches me.  He watches me all the time.  At first it was a little unnerving because I didn't understand and then it came to me.  He has been trained as a support dog and I think he watches in an attempt to anticipate my needs.  Good Boy.

On the other side, I need to watch GB.  Unless the phone rings and he woo-woos along (that cracks me up every time), GB is a silent dog.  I've only heard him bark once since he came here to live.  He doesn't growl or whine.  The only way I know he needs to go outside is when he goes to sit by the front door, looking back at me.  Consequently, we watch.

Sometimes I think I live in an alternate universe.  Celeste has taken over the dog's bed, and GB was sleeping on the loveseat.  What's wrong with this picture?  Maybe because I slept all night in the recliner?  Oh well.  Who's to say what's normal.  Nobody's watching.

Soaked

A disaster was narrowly averted yesterday, whew!  As I was going back to the laundry room to fold clothes, I glanced into the guest bedroom, the room that Ralph, Celeste, and once in awhile GB have taken over.  I've shown photos before of how Ralph prefers the bed, with the covers half on the floor and the sheets pulled back.  I don't go in there much anymore.  Anyhow, in passing, I noted I hadn't opened the windows for summer weather and thought I'd better do that.  No problem with the first one, and I went on to the south window, my mind busy with other things.  It was while I was fiddling with the latch that I actually looked at what I was doing.  GASP!  This huge wasp or hornet nest (I didn't ask for ID) was/is on the inside and attached to the screen.  All those white bumps are egg cases and there were dozens and dozens of wasp nannies tending to the nest, which is way bigger than my outspread hand.  Can you imagine what would have happened if I'd opened the window?  I could, and it scared me silly.  I grabbed a can of wasp killer, went outside and liberally sprayed the nest and every wasp I could see.  I mean I soaked that thing.  I hotfooted it back in the house just in case there were reinforcements.  I'll be keeping an eye on the nest from inside the house for a while.

I had to go to town, and I deliberated whether to take GB with me, finally deciding that the A/C in the truck outweighed the minute or two it would take to get inside the stores.  GB was his usual Good Boy self, and I waited patiently as he piddled on every leaf, tree trunk and post in the shade at every stop.  That was a mistake, as we got to the bank 20 minutes after it closed.  Thanks, GB.

It was over 100 degrees and I was soaked with perspiration.  It's not a pretty picture when one is trying to write a check (I'm old school) and sweat is dripping off your nose.  At least the floor in the air-conditioned stores was a relief for GB.

I did remember about the whole-house fan in the evening, and for the last two nights I've had the ceiling fan in the bedroom going.  Today is supposed to be the worst one yet.  Aaargh.

Second Guesses

When one is a creature of habit as I am, there are times it doesn't pay to second guess yourself.  Admittedly I was only half awake when I toddled down to the kitchen.  First thing, make the coffee: water and coffee grounds for one cup, turn on the machine.  Hmmm.  Did I put in the water?  You know, I don't think I did.  Easy fix...put in the water.  While the machine does its job, check the food bowls.  GB eats surprisingly little so I can fill his dish and give him free choice.  It's the cats who are chow hounds (and it shows on Celeste).  It did seem like the machine took a little longer, but....  Consequently, I have a full mug of hot, dark water this morning and another one waiting in the kitchen.  A pretty weak way to start the day.

It got so hot so fast yesterday morning that I was disinclined to mess around with Fu, even with an early start.  It would have been too hot to mow if he had fired up.  This weekend is supposed to be even worse, but a cool down is predicted for next week, yay!  It's an imposition to ask favors, but if Beau can't come by soon, I fear I'm going to have to look farther afield for help.

A trip to town is on today's agenda and I'm going to stores/shops where GB is allowed, and he does like to go for a ride and Truck has A/C.  My concern is getting him from and to the truck as I know the parking lots will be hot on his little bare feet.  "Hurry" is not a word in my vocabulary anymore, and "run" is out of the question.  This is going to require more thought.

Question of the day:  do two cups of weak, insipid coffee equal one cup of regular strength?  Note to self:  don't second guess.

Fill 'Er Up

No, not Truck, we're not going anywhere.  It's the time of year when it's important to keep the small spray bottle I keep by my chair in summer filled with water.  In lieu of air conditioning, I fall back on evaporation to give at least momentary coolness.  I can go through a bottle a day.  The problem with this is that while spritzing my face, there is overspray on my hair.  Anyone familiar with curly hair knows that moisture tightens the curl and I end up looking like a hedgehog.  The solution to that is not to look.  (Maybe it's a good thing Beau hasn't come by yet.)

Dave called yesterday.  Fu has an automatic kill switch when the seat doesn't make contact with the something-or-other on the battery.  This is a safety feature in case the driver falls off so that the engine and blades are immediately stopped.  Dave suggested I give what I hope I'll recognize as the contacts a good spray of WD-40.  I'll give that a try today.  I'd hate to think that Fu has joined John, who really only wanted to work for men.  This kind of discrimination has no place in my workforce.

Stuck

Another day of missed mowing.  Fu sits stuck in his shed.  I did put in a call to Beau, asking him to stop by when he has time.  I'm pretty sure it's just loose wires and shouldn't take Beau long.

As bad as the foxtails are, they're nothing compared to the velcro burrs, little bitty seeds that cling to anything that passes by.  Either they are particularly bad this year or GB is going places Bessie just didn't go.  He comes back from his travels into the woods (where he is allowed to go) covered in burrs.  We're getting a lot of bonding time as I brush and brush and brush his coat.  I thought I'd gotten them all yesterday, but when he rolled over for a belly rub in bed last night I found there was a hidden patch stuck under his armpit.  Drat.

GB, also known as the Jeebster, Jeebs, and sometimes Heeby-GB, seems to have settled into the routine of the house.  Spurts of activity followed by periods of do-nothing.  He's as good at napping as I am.  We're kind of stuck in a rut, but we're in it together.