The dawn of my 60th birthday has yet to break, but it's already been eventful. Had to break up a cat fight in the dark of 5 a.m. (The senior cat escaped indoors, but the junior cat took up a guardian perch on the railing of the back porch. He's a tough little shit - he was the one doing the fighting.)
Then I had a good cry, missing my longtime friend. She would have been all over this occasion, and I would have returned the favor next year.
She died in March and I guess I'm still not over it.
The tear fest was immediately followed by a 'happy birthday' call from my Dallas sister. From sadness to joy in three seconds flat.
I'm taking the day off.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Thank You!
At my brother's house, when my nieces were little, the dinnertime prayer/blessing was a round of 'thank you's' to anybody and anything that had something to do with the meal before us.
"Thank you, farmer." "Thank you, truck who took the food." "Thank you, grocery store." All stated sincerely in sweet little girl voices.
It did sometimes seem like a contest as to who could come up with the newest - and most creative - subject for gratitude. "Thank you, checkout lady...." "Thank you, company that made the bags..."
"Thank you, sunshine, for helping the plants grow." "Thank you, rain, for giving them water to drink."
A lovely anecdote to remember as this morning's sunlight touches the tops of the trees.
So thank you...for another day. (Even though there's a heat advisory and I plan to spend it looking at the world through glass today.)
Thank you, person who came up with air conditioning!
"Thank you, farmer." "Thank you, truck who took the food." "Thank you, grocery store." All stated sincerely in sweet little girl voices.
It did sometimes seem like a contest as to who could come up with the newest - and most creative - subject for gratitude. "Thank you, checkout lady...." "Thank you, company that made the bags..."
"Thank you, sunshine, for helping the plants grow." "Thank you, rain, for giving them water to drink."
A lovely anecdote to remember as this morning's sunlight touches the tops of the trees.
So thank you...for another day. (Even though there's a heat advisory and I plan to spend it looking at the world through glass today.)
Thank you, person who came up with air conditioning!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Slugs Need Love, Too
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Every Bug Has Its Day
We didn't have fireworks on the Fourth of July - we had fireflies.

It's been a good year for lightning bugs. For some reason - the wet weather perhaps? - there were a lot of them. I say 'were,' because the bloom is over. Just a few stragglers blinking in the night.
Fireflies aren't flies - they're actually a type of beetle. Kansas is the western edge of their habitat. They're an eastern bug - lightning bugs are a rarity on the west coast.
Their glow comes from a chemical reaction in light-producing organs in the firefly's abdomen. They're quite efficient at producing light: nearly 100 percent of their light is given off as light. An electric light bulb, by contrast, gives off 10 percent light while the other 90 percent is heat.
Each species of firefly has a specific flash pattern. Males use it to catch the fancy of females in the area and a quick flash communication between the two ensues as they prepare to get it on. The bioluminescence is also thought to be a warning to other predators: "don't eat me, I taste really bad."
Their life span is about two months. Which made me wonder: if, as Einstein said, time is relative, does time slow down for a firefly? Do they cram a lot of living in that short period? There was certainly a lot of sex happening out in the woods on the Fourth of July.....
Nature's light show.

It's been a good year for lightning bugs. For some reason - the wet weather perhaps? - there were a lot of them. I say 'were,' because the bloom is over. Just a few stragglers blinking in the night.
Fireflies aren't flies - they're actually a type of beetle. Kansas is the western edge of their habitat. They're an eastern bug - lightning bugs are a rarity on the west coast.
Their glow comes from a chemical reaction in light-producing organs in the firefly's abdomen. They're quite efficient at producing light: nearly 100 percent of their light is given off as light. An electric light bulb, by contrast, gives off 10 percent light while the other 90 percent is heat.
Each species of firefly has a specific flash pattern. Males use it to catch the fancy of females in the area and a quick flash communication between the two ensues as they prepare to get it on. The bioluminescence is also thought to be a warning to other predators: "don't eat me, I taste really bad."
Their life span is about two months. Which made me wonder: if, as Einstein said, time is relative, does time slow down for a firefly? Do they cram a lot of living in that short period? There was certainly a lot of sex happening out in the woods on the Fourth of July.....
Nature's light show.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Moon Suit
As the photo below indicates, the bugs are out in full force now. I hold my walking stick in front of me as I hike the trails; if I don't, I get a faceful of spiderweb.
The chiggers and ticks, however, are the worst.
Funny how one's idealized image of something often bumps up against cold, hard reality. When my husband and I first puchased the acreage for our house, I loved the idea of living in the middle of a forest.
On the morning of our wedding anniversary, a month or so after we'd bought the land, we decided to take some lawn chairs, croissants, and the makings for mimosas and watch the sun come up. We spent the morning in a little clearing and it was lovely - even though neither of us had realized it's a little hard to see the sunrise when you're surrounded by trees.
I started to itch a little later in the day. Upon investigation, I discovered I had approximately 250 chigger bites; Mr. D had 3. We counted.
I spent the next two weeks trying everything: bleach baths, nail polish, calomine lotion, anything that promised relief from the itching. Nothing helped, until a pharmacist recommended Benadryl (duh!) and the topical application of Absorbine Jr. Muscle Liniment in the roll-on bottle. Had to be the roll-on, she said, though it wasn't indicated on the label as an itch reliever. (It is now.)
That was the first breakthrough. The second is what Mr. D calls my 'moon suit": pants, socks, shirt, bandanna, and hat - all treated with some anti-bug chemical that lasts through 25 washings. And it works. I no longer have to spray myself with Deep Woods Off (the best, but made me want to shower as soon as I could.) The moon suit hangs on a peg by the back door, ready for me whenever I feel the urge.
It's hot, though that's a small price to pay to be chigger- and tick-free.
The chiggers and ticks, however, are the worst.
Funny how one's idealized image of something often bumps up against cold, hard reality. When my husband and I first puchased the acreage for our house, I loved the idea of living in the middle of a forest.
On the morning of our wedding anniversary, a month or so after we'd bought the land, we decided to take some lawn chairs, croissants, and the makings for mimosas and watch the sun come up. We spent the morning in a little clearing and it was lovely - even though neither of us had realized it's a little hard to see the sunrise when you're surrounded by trees.
I started to itch a little later in the day. Upon investigation, I discovered I had approximately 250 chigger bites; Mr. D had 3. We counted.
I spent the next two weeks trying everything: bleach baths, nail polish, calomine lotion, anything that promised relief from the itching. Nothing helped, until a pharmacist recommended Benadryl (duh!) and the topical application of Absorbine Jr. Muscle Liniment in the roll-on bottle. Had to be the roll-on, she said, though it wasn't indicated on the label as an itch reliever. (It is now.)
That was the first breakthrough. The second is what Mr. D calls my 'moon suit": pants, socks, shirt, bandanna, and hat - all treated with some anti-bug chemical that lasts through 25 washings. And it works. I no longer have to spray myself with Deep Woods Off (the best, but made me want to shower as soon as I could.) The moon suit hangs on a peg by the back door, ready for me whenever I feel the urge.
It's hot, though that's a small price to pay to be chigger- and tick-free.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Putting it in context
I'm sitting inside feeling whiny about the heat...and the rain. Hard week at work. Cruising the Web 'cuz I don't have anything better to do, and then I come across this post on the BBC:
Today is a different day. I and my friends may never return home. We want the world to at least picture our being killed on streets to help democracy in iran and save the world. Pray for us.
Farshid, Tehran, Iran
Meanwhile, from the live Iran blog on Huffington Post:
12:26 PM ET -- Mousavi martyrdom. A message on Mousavi's official Facebook page "confirms he is on the streets and has 'washed in readiness to be martyred,'" a Persian speaker emails.
Suddenly, my alleged problems seem a little puny...
'Scuse me. I gotta go watch CNN now.
Today is a different day. I and my friends may never return home. We want the world to at least picture our being killed on streets to help democracy in iran and save the world. Pray for us.
Farshid, Tehran, Iran
Meanwhile, from the live Iran blog on Huffington Post:
12:26 PM ET -- Mousavi martyrdom. A message on Mousavi's official Facebook page "confirms he is on the streets and has 'washed in readiness to be martyred,'" a Persian speaker emails.
Suddenly, my alleged problems seem a little puny...
'Scuse me. I gotta go watch CNN now.
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