Damsel in Distress

Inspirational song: Blackbird (The Beatles)

There I was, minding my own business...

I was trying to clean house, running back and forth through the place with laundry, gathering dishes, hanging up the jackets I'd left draped on every surface. I heard a little tapping on the front window, and I looked up in time to see Athena scurry toward the corner, by the giant ficus tree. Her body was low; her ears were down. Something was very intriguing to her. Through the branches of the ficus, I saw there was a black bird on the brick ledge in the corner of the front porch. He or she was tapping her bill on the vinyl window frame, and seeming to make eye contact with Athena, without fear. I slowly walked up, speaking softly (the other window was open, and I figured the bird could hear me). I said hello, and said would she stick around if I went and got a camera off the charger. I did, and I snapped a couple pictures of her and Athena sizing each other up through the window. She seemed a little unsteady, and tucked down into herself like she had needs she couldn't fully express. I spoke through the window and asked if she wanted sparkly toys. I had two of those bead segments left next to my chair, and I offered to bring them outside. I gently opened the door, and set them on the brick, a few feet away from her. I didn't want to startle her, and I didn't want to be screaming and ducking if she felt so threatened that she flew up and tried to peck me. She didn't hop over to pick up the beads, so I watched her for a minute to see whether I could interpret better what it was she wanted or needed.

I wondered whether she had just overheated, and was she hanging out in the shade of my porch to cool off? I suggested I'd get her some water, and I found a metal loaf pan to put it in, one that I thought she could jump on without damaging. I brought it back, and set it on the folding chair closest to her. She ruffled her feathers a little when I did it, but she didn't try to fly away. Neither did she hop down to drink anything. I moved on to my next plan. I sat on the porch and watched her while I waited for the Mr to come home. My reasoning was twofold. First, I wanted to prevent him from coming around the corning and startling the bird. I was afraid someone would get hurt if that happened, and I couldn't say who it might be. Second, I told the bird that he was really good about helping animals in need. I promised her that he would be better and more actively helpful than I.

When he finally came up and saw her, he jumped in exactly as I expected him to. He approached her, and reached out his hand. She was nervous, but she let him touch her. He quickly suggested that she had flown into the window and stunned herself. He nudged her until she stepped onto his hand, and he picked her up. She moved her wings a little, but didn't actually try to fly away. It was several minutes before we were satisfied that she had not broken one or both of her wings.

She seemed to spend a long time unstable and loopy. If she did fly into the window, it must have been a hard hit. We tried all sorts of things to convince her to set out on her own, once she had accepted that the human touching her was kind of a good thing. He walked into the yard, and held her out from his body, offering her the opportunity to fly away over and over. He tried to put her in a tree, but it seemed to crowd her and she kept getting her wings caught. So we found a broomstick and ran it through the tree in such a way to provide more perching space for her. She stayed in one spot the whole time we visited with the neighbor, pulled weeds, watered flowers, and changed the wiper blades on my car and refilled the washer fluid. She just watched us do stuff, and made both of us feel guilty that we weren't still actively helping. We set up the giant dog cage, and put the broomstick in it, so that she had a place in the garage, away from leaves and wind, to hang out and wait for the effects of her concussion to wear off. The Mr offered her worms freshly dug out of the compost heap, but she didn't seem to like them as much as the wet cat food kibbles we had provided. After an hour in the cage, she started flitting around, seeming agitated. Mr S-P transferred her to the chokecherry tree in the back yard, where she was at full dark, seemingly sleeping. I haven't checked on her since. I hope she regains her full senses by morning, and remembers how to bird. I can't see us being able to keep her happy if she were to stay on as a permanent pet. She's welcome to live here as long as she wants, as long as "here" means outside in the Park, not inside the house.

Exchanged

Inspirational song: Girls on Film (Duran Duran)

Normally I make a point of taking pictures throughout my day, hoping that a handful of them will be useful in this space. Some are illustrations, some are just pretty things I look at on my way to the things I am doing. Today I did the opposite of that. I spent an hour and a half deleting hundreds of pictures from my cloud storage. Ever since they dramatically limited my free storage limit, I spend most of my time viewing warnings that my cloud storage is 97% full (or worse). I go through and delete twenty or thirty here and there, and it never seems to make a dent. It took me well over an hour to gain myself a full 1GB of free space. And it never showed me anything older than last June. I will have to dig through and see what settings are preventing me from shedding really old stuff that has already been uploaded onto the blog, that doesn't require me keeping it anywhere else.

I took only one new photo today, and I don't feel like it is wise for me to share it. I think my subject wouldn't mind having his picture shared, but I didn't obtain specific permission to do so. I'll keep it out of public spaces. The picture was of the young man I had lunch with, our Rotary foreign exchange student, in his sport jacket covered with "flair" (pins he exchanged with other exchange students he encountered on his year here). It was the last time he could come to Rotary, and I got to be the one to be his ride to and from the meeting. He gave his farewell and thank you speech, and he read it out to me in the car on the way, to make sure his grammar was good. It was actually terrific and sweet, and his English has gotten significantly better than the first time I picked him up from school, also on a day when he had to give a presentation to the group, that time about his home country. I was his speech editor that day too. This young man has great potential to be a force for good, in his own country, or anywhere he chooses to apply himself. He was as open and affectionate with our entire Rotary as a puppy, and every one of us was impressed with his sunny nature. When I dropped him off for the last time, I told him I thought he was an amazing human being, and that I know he will be a fantastic adult. He seemed surprised I would say that, and asked if I really meant it. Absolutely I do, young friend. I hope to see your name mentioned in the news one day, as an important world leader, of one sort or another.

Race Me

Inspirational song: Love is the Drug (Roxy Music)

My ears won't stop ringing. At first, I wondered whether it was just from the road noise of spending two hours in the car right before bedtime. I thought, this is as bad as when I come home from rock concerts without having worn earplugs. I was slow to piece together how much loud music and crowd noise has buffeted me in the last 18 hours. I earned every dizzying decibel of this ear ringing. I'll be lucky if it has quieted down by morning.

We got up early this morning so the Mr could run in the Bolder Boulder 10k again. Just like last year, he only decided for sure to register and run a few days before the race. He did absolutely no prep. No, strike that. He shaved his head ("more aerodynamic," he joked), and picked out a previous year's official race t-shirt to wear. (And a hat and sunglasses, so no, there was no added benefit to a shaved head other than evaporative cooling.) Last year he had been having back pain in the days leading up to the race, and discovered moments before the starting line that it was a kidney stone, and yet he still finished the race in just over an hour. This year he felt fine, but was one more year away from mandatory physical training, so his run time didn't change much. It still impressed the hell out of me. I didn't walk as much as last year. I dropped him off a few blocks from the start, and then I drove up on University Hill to find a parking place. I parked much faster than I expected, and got much closer, so that I arrived in the stadium right as he was about to set off. I probably shouldn't have sat in the sun the whole time, but what's done is done. I don't seem to be suffering yet. I'm better off than the Man, anyway, who had some cramping in his calves after the race. Maybe next year he will actually work up to it, so recovery is smoother.

I don't hang around the 10k scene often enough to be numb to the costumes people wear. I like it when the college kid runs by in a business suit and tie. Or when I saw the handful of guys who were dressed like pro-wrestlers from the 1990s. I wondered how the three guys who were painted silver head to toe managed to sweat and stay in full makeup. And I was jealous of the physicality of the dozen or so Marines who jogged in formation, and detoured into the infield for a bunch of push-ups before they were allowed to jog on across the finish line.

I am not yet ready to commit to running or walking in this race, either next year or any year after that. If I find myself in peak (for me) physical condition, I'll do it, based on how I feel the weekend of the race. If I am as out of whack as I am this year, then no. Not going to do it at all.

Unfocused

Inspirational song: Comfortably Numb (Pink Floyd)

Hm. Yes. There is indeed a lovely little duet being played on my consciousness. I did too many physical things this day, and by late afternoon I needed the combined efforts of tramadol and cyclobenzaprene. I had most of my contributions to dinner done early, so all I had to do was put on jammies after my shower, and carry food over to the neighbor's for dinner and a movie. I was wide awake through the meal, a little sleepy when we starting in on the cheesecake that I made, and by the end of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1, I was more asleep than awake.

I have a handful of pictures from my walk to the hardware store. They get to make up the bulk of tonight's post. I'm off to bed. We have an early morning deadline to meet, and I have a lot of chemicals to sleep off before then.

I'm Always With the Band

Inspirational song: Umbrella (Rhianna)

I don't yet know what sort of summer this is going to be, but it is starting off on the cool and wet side. There was rain off and on all day, and the temperatures never quite made it all the way up to "mild" ranges. We are still a few weeks away from the summer solstice, but I'm already starting to wonder whether this year will be like the one right before we moved away from Colorado in the 1990s, when summer never really showed up. I suppose with a little research, I could get the specifics on how much rain we saw and how the hot days never materialized, but it isn't that important to me yet. If we are significantly off of seasonal averages two or three months from now, I might dig into the historical data.

Today was Creek Fest in Boulder, so the city was packed while we were there. We weren't in town to go to Creek Fest (although a certain progeny of mine was determined to be there and looking forward to it as she does every year, even knowing it usually rains on this event). We were supposed to go to a fundraiser for the CU marching band, to replace a bunch of the uniform hats that look like they had been run over by Ralphie at a few games. Before we could get there, the Mr had to do a few hours of handyman work for a friend of a friend. We thought it would take an hour at the most. Three hours later, we set out into the chilly, wet day, to see whether the BBQ was still happening, and if so, could we still get in and get food.

I saw a few folks I recognized from alumni band events, plus one guy who was in the band with me, back in the powder blue uniform years. (We used to have the same uniforms as the University of Texas band, leisure suits--"Sky Blue at 10,000 Feet" for us rather than Burnt Orange--with fringed gauntlets on our forearms, Col Sanders-esque string bowties, and white cowboy hats. What were they thinking?) There was food left for us, including Oskar Blues root beer floats in souvenir pint glasses. I felt bad for the band alums who were scooping ice cream for an hour in the cold. Most of us were huddled under a giant umbrella/pavilion outside of the alumni center, or trying to stay warm in the tent over the cornhole games or giant Jenga. Eventually we gave up and went inside the building, and wandered around admiring the historic house. (We can't remember whether it used to be the university president's house or something else, and I didn't see enough signs to clarify. I saw one that identified the artist of all the watercolor paintings in one room as Sibell Wolle, the woman after whom the fine arts building was named (a building where I spent a great deal of my undergrad time).

It's still almost four months until football and marching band season is in full swing. This was a nice diversion to tide me over until my favorite time of year, when drum cadences fill the air and I watch the band from the fight songs in the pre-game march-in, to the singing of the alma mater as the crowd exits the stadium. Oh, and there's usually a football game to watch in between band performances.

The Long View

Inspirational song: Spinning Wheel (Blood, Sweat & Tears)

For the first time since this whole nonsense started, it feels real and possible. We have a goal that isn't pie in the sky. After talking to a banker a couple of days ago, my daughter has a budget and a plan, and may actually get a house. It won't be immediate. There are a few hurdles to clear so that the budget represents Colorado realities, but we are on the track and entering the starting gate. We went on a real showing today, not a "let's go for the hell of it" showing. I'm going to set her up to get emails as soon as houses hit the MLS. Time to track trends and time the market. It's a marathon not a sprint with this one, but the race is indeed on.

At my last trip to the closing table, while we waited for the magic to happen behind the scenes, my buyers and my boss and I chatted about market trends. I hope he is right that our cyclical market correction will be on time, somewhere in the next year. That would give me hope that I could get my daughter into a mortgage that won't leave her house poor. I'd also like to be able to do my job without freaking out about multiple offer situations with escalation clauses, but I refuse to hold my breath on that happening anytime soon.

I spent a lot of time out and about today. While it was clear sailing when we went to the Four Hundred Dollar store (our track record at Costco hasn't been very good lately), there were several gigantic storms off in the distance. One was way out south and east of Denver, one was up by the Wyoming border. Both were amazingly pretty. My photos didn't do them justice.

Aw, Hail.

Inspirational song: Hail! Hail! Rock and Roll (Chuck Berry)

Most of us have known someone who could be described as "too stupid to come in out of the rain." How does one describe an individual who can be persuaded to come inside as fat raindrops start to fall, but keeps running back outside until the door is finally shut to him? I had to chase Murray in three times before I got him to stay, and that was only because I shut the garage door. I had intended on leaving it open, so that the fresh air from the thunderstorm would blow in and make the garage less stuffy while the dogs waited out the first of the two big cells that passed over us. I gave up on that when a certain paraplegic puppy insisted that he wanted to be out not in. I managed to capture him less than a minute before the rain turned into a long wave of pea-sized hail. I don't think he would have been as happy if he were still out at that point.

Hail came through twice today, although in the second storm, there were two or three rounds of it before the skies cleared slightly. After the pounding that parts of Denver got recently, I kept a very close eye on how intense the hail storms were. The hailstones never got larger than peas here, and the damage, if there was any, was imperceptible. I worried that I would get car damage, or perhaps I'd lose a tomato plant or two. I appear to have escaped unscathed.

I don't know whether it was the storms or the location, but our turnout at the monthly social for Rotary was very small. Fewer than ten people total showed, I think. Or maybe right at ten. It's a shame. The wine bar where we went laid out a cheese spread for us, and had happy hour specials the whole time we were there. It meant that the conversation was a bit more intimate, so I suppose there was a silver lining to be found.

Remedy

Inspirational song: Sunshine on My Shoulders (John Denver)

The morning light was so beautiful as I sat outside with my coffee. I had only intended on being out in the back yard for a few minutes, long enough to get through most of a cup, and to let the cats have a little fresh air. Alfred had to ruin everything by jumping the fence while I was Sitting Right There Looking At Him, and I had to get up and chase him in the alley, to carry him back inside the house. And of course, while I was up, I refilled my coffee and got some cottage cheese and strawberries for breakfast, and I stayed out a little longer. I wandered around a little bit, taking pictures of things that looked so pretty in the light. And then, while we were there, we started doing a few chores. The Mr swept the patio. I trimmed the dead branches off of the giant common sage. He pulled weeds. I planted two pots of kitchen herbs. Then while I was at it, I planted the last of the dahlia rhizomes. And he told me that if I wanted the new coreopsis and dianthus planted, I should point out where I wanted them while he was willing to dig holes. Once we had used up enough chores in the back yard, we moved to the front. I pointed out where I wanted the two hydrangeas, that he sank into the ground, while I planted flower seeds in a giant pot that never seemed to successfully grow trees, no matter how many saplings we've put in it over the years.

Somehow, without paying attention, we managed to be out in the sun for hours. And even after I said out loud that I'd be better served by stopping the chores and going back inside, I was still out watering in everything we planted for another twenty minutes or more. I could feel the sunburn starting, but I ignored the sensation. Not long after, once I was alone and inside, I got a message from my daughter who wanted to go to lunch. I met her downtown, and I managed to walk around in the sun some more, and before the end of the day, we were out in it yet again.

I got upwards of four full hours of sun today. Normal people hear this and think, yeah, so what? The problem is, I had extreme sensitivities to the sun for decades before my diagnosis, but now that I'm on heaping handfuls of medications every day, it takes the merest brief exposure to wear me down. My face went long past "pink" to "rashy" in no time. I felt like crap. And somewhere over the course of the evening, it occurred to me, even after all of my research, all of the doctors for the last sixteen months, I have no idea what to do to feel better after sun exposure. They tell me don't do it, but I can't remember what they said I should do if I can't avoid it. It's possible that allowing the sun to bake my brain has cleared all sense of self-preservation out of me. I'm at a loss. I take all of the pills I can stomach, and they just make me more sun-sensitive. I don't think there are any that could have helped in this case. I sat and rested as much as I could, after the fact. I thought maybe a cool shower would help, but I just couldn't be bothered to stand up that long. I drank a ton of water. Perhaps there really is nothing else but to wait it out and see whether I face the consequences over the next day.