10:05 a.m. - 2002-08-21
More musings
These entries are getting more and more scattered...just like my brain. If the situation were a commercial, it would go like this:
"This is your brain." (Imagine a scene of a cute cat.) "This is your brain after buying a house." (Shot of same cute cat, but now soaking wet and chasing it's tail.)
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A very nice lady from Traffic Control stopped by yesterday while I was dragging boxes in. She informed me, very politely, as though she were afraid I would hit her, that the tree branches from the Chinese Chestnut were blocking the view for drivers turning our corner. She realised we were just moving in and it wasn't our first priority - would we like the city to trim them for free?
Huh?!
Sure enough, when I came around the corner this morning there was a pile of branches on the ground and a clear view of the corner. For free! Cool!
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I know I was talking the other day about how I like thunderstorms when I don't feel threatened, but yesterday I felt threatened. We had a lingering storm that stayed within about a mile of the house. It was one of those storms that sort of shuffles back and forth like an angry old man, constantly simmering and every once in awhile exploding with a barrage of lightning and thunder.
I'm so afraid of these storms when they are right overhead. From out our enormous windows** I could see lightning strikes not a mile away. And in the middle of this, being the new homeowner that I am, I was convinced we had a roof leak.
Of course we didn't. Good Lord, I have such an imagination.
** The windows in our living room are ten feet long by four feet high. All our other windows are at least six feet long and three feet high.
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In the middle of the storm, as I was gazing nervously out the window, a streak of grey fur flew by. It was a squirrel falling out of a tree. It lay motionless for a second and I panicked, wondering how fast I could get in touch with Alvin. After all, a guy who routinely operates on Great Horned Owls would surely know what to do with a near dead squirrel! No need, however. After a few seconds it jumped up as if to say "Right then! Off we go!" and ran back up the tree.
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And here is the inevitable Mr. Groundhog report:
Mr. Groundhog was spotted standing on his hind legs eating figs the day before yesterday. When he saw us watching him he just turned around and stared at us as though to say "Whatsa' matta? You never seen a groundhog eating figs? Take a picture, it lasts longer!" and then he went right back to chowing down.
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