Occasionally, in the morning, after that initial very important trip outside to pee, Edsel likes to go out a second time, after breakfast, to take a leisurely sniff of the perimeter. He trots all around, snouting the things, to inform himself of what happened while he was sleeping. I figure what happens is nothing, but there is wilderness behind us so maybe the occasional possum occurs or what have you.
Anyway, he’s out there doing that right now, even though my Google machine told me that with the wind it feels like 13 degrees. He’s out there naked, unless you count his collar which can’t be doing much, sniffing the perimeter like it’s fun.
While I was waiting for the coffee to cook and Eds was out freezing his nethers just in case he caught Footnote du Possum, I noticed the light of my cool plate window reflected on the wall.
I also meant to photograph Milhous looking pretty on the table, but instead captured Milhous tormenting poor Iris, who never wants any trouble.
He’s such an ass. Also, can anyone else see that he has a cat head in his fur? I asked that when he was a kitten and everyone was all, no. Y’all still don’t see that cat head? Over there in his swirls.
Anyway, other than my pets being amusing today, the other news is (and brace yourselves) I have a cold. I know you’re paging backward in your Big Book of June Events. “Didn’t she just HAVE a cold in December?” and YES. The answer is yes. I went two winters with no colds, and now I have to have two colds in one winter. Goddammit.
Yesterday I was in the sore throat phase and today it’s The Sore Throat Continues with special guest star Itchy Ears, feat. Slightly Sniffy.
I hope this won’t ruin my biopsy.
Oooo, speaking of things being ruined, last night I was watching Grace & Frankie–did you know a new season is out? God, I love that show. Lily Tomlin is the best. Anyway, I was right in the middle of that one episode where Bud acts like a nervous lunatic when
All the lights went out. And I’ll tell you what. If anyone bursts in here to murder me one day, I’ll be murdered right up, because my first reaction to any shocking thing is to just go blank for a moment.
Like, when I got rear-ended last summer. I sat there blank for a good 30 seconds. Then I got on the phone and started making what I thought were very efficient phone calls canceling things, when in fact I’d lost sight of what day it was and was canceling things I didn’t yet have to.
Anyway, that was me last night. I knew what day it was, witty cooper. But I drew a blank. I sat in the dark the way my mother’s Beagle used to do if you threw a towel on her head. “well. dis it. dis goldie lyfe now. she sit in darks.”
Beagles aren’t that smart. I tell you this as someone who had a Pit/Beagle mix. Remember the treat in the can story? (That old blog post contains a photo of me looking just awful. You know when you guys say, “You look better now, June”? I think, God, I know.)
Good lord, how did I get all the way over here? What I meant to say is that all the power went out last night, and I drew a blank. But instead we got into car accidents from aught 19 and Beagles and cans and my Real Housefrau of Greensboro look I had going 10 years ago.
So, the power went out last night.
After I sat blankly for my requisite 30 seconds, I stampeded to my police scanner app just like I was my gramma. The nice gramma. Not the gramma I turned into. The nice gramma had a big ol’ hefty police radio she kept on often. She would creep to her window to peek out if anything happened on her street, lit Benson & Hedges dangerously close to the gauzy gold-nylon curtains.
Almost immediately last night I was rewarded with police discussion about how all the houses in my little hood were out of lights. “Transformer is out,” one of them said, and I felt better about it being everyone and not just me. Like I wasn’t about to be on Hart to Hart, when someone cuts the power so they can murder someone in a mansion. I wasn’t going to be Miss Gardens in the Living Room with the Blank Look.
Then my police radio said it was a car accident. Like, maybe a car drove into the transformer? If I really think about it, I don’t actually know what a transformer is.
Speaking of which—and I guess we’re going for a potpourri of topics today at ramble of June—yesterday as the workday drew to a close, The Poet said to me, “The sun is setting later now. At this time of night, the sun used to shine right in my face, and now it’s not.”
I smiled thinly and pulled my chair up so I could lean in and look extra smug.
“You know, Poet,” I began, “the Earth rotates. And…”
And right then I knew. I didn’t really know why the sun was at a different angle. Like, did we rotate, or did the sun rotate, or was there something to do with an axis or the Axl Rose or something?
“This would have sounded a lot more condescending had I known the actual facts of why the sun’s in a different place,” I told her. Then I went meekly back to my work.
Back when we worked in the basement—I’m sorry, The Garden Level—there was a time of day we had to pull the blinds, and my boss, fmr., used to play this very grand royal-procession-sounding music during Pulling of the Blinds time. Those were the salad days at that place.
I’m not good with the science facts. Like, the sky is blue because something reflected on something? Or something? Oh my god, I have no idea. I blame Barry Gibb, which is where my head was during all science learning.
Anyway, I have to go, and I know you wish I’d have touched on more topics today but I did not and there it is.