Saturday, July 31, 2010

Stuff on my cat

John's been torturing the cat, this time with the bedside reading.

I liked that Stross book a lot. Although Glasshouse is still my favorite.

We saw Salt today - great, great fun. Replace Brad Pitt with the German dude, and Angelina could have been Mrs. Smith again, only in the CIA, and far more gentle in spirit. But it was a nice script - with no ugh moments - and seriously entertaining, despite the fact that her frail body could never really drop onto all those semis and still keep running. But that's what movies are for.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Visiting alien

I found this against the door frame this morning. At first I thought something kinky was going on, and then I realized there was only one cicada here, and maybe it was hatching.

It was bright green, almost neon, with bulbous eyes like pinheads, and wings that faded from the same green to translucent and webby. It's green cockroach hugeness was unsettling - I was quite worried it was going to jump into my hair and bury itself in my scalp, or claw my skin away with its frog legs. One of its feet still seemed attached to the shell, which looked like it had more guts and slimy stuff inside it than the dried-out shells we've found previously on the door.

I showed John, and then we started worrying it was dead. But then its wings started twitching, and it trembled a little, clearly alive. We were both so thrilled it was like a baby had said its first word, or walked. And then I took lots of pictures, because as much as I adore them, there's only so many Buddy & Kitty pictures that are new anymore.

Although John did his own stuff-on-my-cat thing again this morning. He put my workout pants on Kitty, who was not amused.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Early to rise

I've had an ambivalent/hate relationship with Oklahoma since I moved here. Mostly hate, since summer lasts from April-October, summer as in 95 degrees or more, plus 10 degrees for the heat index, and at least 50% humidity, on a good day. It's not easy to run outside, and of course treadmill running is no fun at all.

But outside there's another problem - there no magical places to be found. And I've looked. Hard. South Dakota was full of them. Wheaton was full of them. Even downtown Chicago held magic, and 1350 N. Kedzie had plenty, especially with Humboldt Park across the street. But no matter the lakes we've gone to, the nature preserves we've explored, and even the geese and cranes and egrets living in the pond behind the townhouse, I still haven't found anything. Pretty, sure, but not magic. Even my grief counselor said that she's lived here for ten years, and she has yet to find magic outside.

But then the city decided to build a sidewalk on our road (there are no sidewalks in this town???), which leads up to a bike path. I've learned that if I drag my ass out of bed early enough to drink some coffee and do my morning pages first, I can then run up the bike path, which slopes up and down hills away from the road and behind a little private airport, all the way to Lake Overholser, which I have yet to run to.

You can just barely see the bike path, here.

Only ten minutes later, the sky is already hazing over with humidity.

And running back.

It's not quite magic, but it's close. And maybe it will be enough until we pack up and move to Minnesota.