Left Behind

Last night I had crashed out on the couch while SodaBoy was watching some late night TV. All of a sudden I threw my hands up over my ears and started mumbling loudly. SodaBoy was mighty confused. The conversation went something like this...

me: blah-blah-blah, I can't hear you, blah-blah-blah.
SB: Are you OK? What's going on?
me, somewhat frantically: They are talking about Potter! blah-blah-blah!
SB, dumbfounded: But you are asleep.
me: blah-blah-blah, I can't hear you.
SB, sighing as he changes the channel: All right, all right.

In my sleep addled memory, it is Keith Olbermann's voice that was doing the Potter talk, but that doesn't make sense because he is not on late night, as far as I know. I did watch several of his pre-release Potter prediction discussions, but now that the book is out and I still don't have it yet, I am trying to be more careful. That means that in part, like NSLS, I am scaling back on the blog reading, not clicking through to posts that might reveal too much. Apparently it also means I am hollering at the TV in my sleep.

It is all a matter of timing, very bad timing on my part. My Potter appreciation has always been of a somewhat moderate scale. I manged to wait for all the earlier books to come out in paper back. However, when I finally got my hands on the Book 6, I tore through it like a true aficionado. I read it so fast I was immediately tempted to re-read it right away, to soak up the details I had just raced through. Instead, I vowed I would re-read the entire series in preparation for the release of Book 7. Right. Best laid plans, and all.

Problem is, as the release date crept up, I sort of forgot. When Phantom put up her HP7 Speculation Thread, my memory was finally jogged, but of course I was reading something else at the time. By the time I got my shit together, any thought of finishing all six books by release date was hopeless. Not to be deterred, I plunged ahead anyway. My current status is almost done with my re-read of Order of the Phoenix, so this weekend we will likely go see the movie. Maybe I will buy Deathly Hollows, too. But I'll still be taking the time to re-read all the way through Book 6 before touching the new one, because I am just stubborn like that. And definitely not a peeker!

Market Booty

I managed to get to the Farmer's Market again yesterday, after a hiatus last weekend when I slept too late. I didn't photograph my purchases like Nadine did, although now I wish I had. Instead, I'll share this photo of the marigolds I got there two weeks ago. I can see them out the window as I type this, little burst of color on the hillside out back. I lucked into some mulch, too, as the neighbors down the street had a tree removed and chipped, and were kind enough to post a sign indicating it was free. I felt funny pushing the wheelbarrow down the street, but it was worth it.

I didn't buy any flowers this week, just lots of produce. We had salad with fresh, local lettuce and tomataoes with dinner. And for lunch? Steamed new potatoes with butter and fresh parsley, inspired by the Liz's description of the dish over at PocketFarm. Simple, but oh, so very good. Tonight will be more salad and local corn, too. I can't wait.

We Love You: a Tribute to Elijah

I have kept things pretty quiet around here lately. I had a shitty week I couldn't face writing about, yet couldn't bear to write about anything else first without acknowledging our loss. I was out of town doing fieldwork for a few days this week, during that brutal heat wave. Normally any time spent in the field and out of the office is good, but when I called SodaBoy from my hotel room Tuesday night, he had terrible news for me: Elijah was dead, apparently killed by the terrible heat.

I had seen him that morning, petted him while he had a bite to eat, and he seemed perfectly normal. SodaBoy saw him not 10 minutes before he expired, and again, he seemed normal. We both feel terrible that we didn't think to lock him in the basement where it is cooler, but unfortunately the thought did not occur in time. Elijah had been with us through similar weather in the past with no trouble. The complacency must have dulled our senses.

Anyway, I wanted to write a tribute to Elijah, the same way I had done for Meshoe when she died. However, writing that piece about Meshoe was hard, and I found myself begging off, unable to confront my grief and guilt about Elijah. Then when I started thinking about it, I realized I've already told many of his stories, how he loved walking with us, even in the winter, and of his fondness for catnip.

So I will share instead the burial mound SodaBoy built for Elijah in our backyard. It is far back in the yard, right at the base of the path leading up into the woods. Under a lilac tree, the fieldstones bordering the edge of a garden wrap around the monument. It is a nice shady spot where Elijah loved to play in the dirt.

We couldn't possibly have loved you any more, Elijah. You were the sweetest kitty, demanding hugs, and purring louder the tighter we squeezed. You are sorely missed, friend.

Outside Looking In

This is the window in our kitchen, above the sink. The project was conceived shortly after Christmas. SodaBoy had received a wide variety of unusual sodas as a gift. After consuming the specialty drinks with much enthusiasm, we used a huge roasting pan to soak off the labels, and lined the bottles up on the window sill, where they waited forlornly for spring. Today was a changing of the guard, with the wilted and drying bunches tossed in the tall grass and fresh blooms collected.

TGI Tuesday

Tomorrow is a holiday and I took Thursday and Friday off as vacation days. Five days in a row with no work is the longest I've had since starting this job. Whee! And I need a break, too. I've been working on a very tedious project for the last two weeks. I stayed late yesterday so I could finish it up today. It is such a relief to be done with the ick, because ordinarily, I love the job. But five whole days off! I am beside myself with joy.

SodaBoy, friend D, and I are going to a Rush concert tomorrow. It should be a lot of fun. While I didn't grow up loving the band with quite the same fervor as the guys, we saw them a few years back on the 30th anniversary tour. I wasn't sure what to expect, but those aging Canadians really rocked out. Like, seriously. Anyway, I used to go to a lot of concerts back in the day, so this will be a nice little flash back to the past.

Speaking of concerts, SodaBoy and I recently went to a local jazz festival to hear Bela Fleck play. The performance was promoted as free, and who can resist free Bela? We were slightly disconcerted to pay $5 for parking. How is that free? Although as anyone who knows Bela could tell you, it was well worth it. Or would have been had we been better prepared for the Artic blast. We both froze our assess off. What a couple of dipshits we are. I have never ever heard a banjo sound like that before. Never heard a saxamaphone sound like that, either.

The event also featured public fornication. Hmmm, the organizers might not care for that portrayal of things. Let's just say that several thousand people witnessed the long and drawn out multiple-positioned love making session of one couple who chose a very prominent and well lit grassy knoll for their intimacy. Aside from the plethora of more private places that were eschewed, the most shocking thing was that no one broke it up. I sort of thought event staff might step in, as there were kids playing freeze tag all around. The kids actually tagged the fornicators, then hid in a ditch and watched the whole thing.

Hopefully they'll be none of that at the Rush show. Nothing against fornication, I assure you. It's just that I found the whole thing a little distracting.