Monthly Archives: June 2009

Trouble around the house

I was already off-kilter, so since Boadie died I’ve had a wee spiral of sad + not sleeping + not eating = The Dumbs.

Result: I stayed up far too late last Friday to finish reading Drood, but I roll my eyes and wrinkle my nose every time I pick up Daily Life During the Black Death.

Usually anything involving plague will really get me going.

Also: I started a knitting project, then hated it and ripped it out. Picked up a previous project, knitted several inches, then noticed all the ways in which I had messed it up, ripped it out. I’m now on a brand-new project with the first-mentioned yarn.

Also: I can’t be bothered to pick my clothes up off the floor, but I went on a rampage and cleaned off the stacks of miscellany on the kitchen table.

Also: I’m exhausted, but instead of sleeping, I stay up late looking at the Internet. And let’s be honest: the Internet is boring.

I’m in A Mood, for sure. Thankfully, Dingo and I are off to Vermont for the weekend. I get to be in Vermont and watch my beloved cousin marry her true love. If that doesn’t break my Mood, there’s no help for me.

When stories attack

Oh, I am a slow writer. I am the very slowest of slow writers. You know, except when a story comes out fast.

But in general, I tend to be working on things that have been hanging around for months to a year.

Recently a friend of mine gave a story a whizz-bang edit: just chock full of helpful commentary and enthusiasm. I hadn’t looked at the story since I sent it to her.

And you know what? It’s a watershed story: one of the ones that represents a step up the ladder. I’m proud of that work. I’m confident it’ll find a home. It’s actually pretty (shh!) good.

It makes all the other things I’m working on look  flaccid in comparison. Now I want to start them all over from scratch.

Dangit!

Summer storms

It’s the first summer-afternoon storm: and not even summer yet.

They roll up out of nowhere, loud thunder, drenching rain, then roll back out again, leaving everything even hotter and more sticky than before.

But it looks cooler when it’s cloudy, and the lack of sunlight means that the air conditioner works more efficiently. Result: my office goes from basement to morgue. I’m huddled over a cup of green tea, considering the addition of a shawl. Weather Underground tells me it’s 85 degrees outside.

During the spring of 2001, I volunteered at the Austin Nature & Science Center. My jobs were to feed and clean cages.

I fed and gave water to the breeder mice and rats. I changed out paper and water bottles in the education bird cages: there was a kestrel that h.a.t.e.d. me and would seriously bug out any time I got near it. I cleaned out the water bowls of the baby possums, but I never saw them (only smelled them).

I’d pick up the breakfast remains and hose out the owl cages. I had a little bag for the gooey stuff. It all smelled pretty bad, but it was so cool to be that close to owls. Most of them would wake up a little and watch me through slitted eyes, but they never seemed to mind me.

Jonah the hawk, an education bird, once cried in my ear. It’s a sound that I hear sometimes when I’m coming up out of sleep.

Bogart the bobcat had been a pet, so he was a giant kitty cat. He’d rub against my leg (leaving fur everywhere) and purr. He liked to get his ears scritched.

The first time I met Martha coyote, she jumped up on a stump and took my elbow in her teeth.

“Don’t freak out!” the administrator said.

“I’m not freaked out. She’s just saying hello,” I told her. I think that impressed her a little. Martha held onto my elbow for a minute, then let go (she didn’t break the skin).

I would come home from working there and Boadie would sniff at me as if to say, “HOLY MOLY DUDE WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING??”

(She reacted the same way when I came home wearing a coat covered in horse spit. Man did that horse love my coat.)

Last weekend we went back to the Nature Center. Bogey was very old and starting to have kidney problems by the time I left, so I didn’t expect to see him.

But Jonah is still there, and Martha. Still beautiful. Still my wild friends.