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Monday, March 7, 2005 |
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I could have looked out the window at what remains of the waning crescent moon up just over the ridge early this morning when I woke up, when it was still dark and very cold, but I didn't remember to, and I regret it. I did mail off a couple of poem-related items at noon, though, and that's something. And I gave the creepy guys who keep "just cruising around" my private road the evil eye again as they drove past. It's a dead-end road. I'm the only one on it. They're scary and have no reason to be here. They are among several who do this often, repeatedly, now that the road is dry. Sunday morning there was a dead black cat on my doorstep. Very dead. Very rotten. True, the dogs probably dragged it there. (It was so gross; you wouldn't believe it.) Still. Of all the dead things lying around here, this is the only one that's ended up on my doorstep. They're spookin' me. Anyway. Surprise Valley Sally visited last night and we watched Matchstick Men on her Netflix DVD. I liked it very much even though I suspected the trick of it early on and was certain of it halfway in. This afternoon I watched the DVD extras while I ate lunch and tomorrow I'll drop it off at the P.O. I loved the Sam Rockwell character and it was fun looking at the familiar L.A. scenery while they scouted locations for the film in "The Making of..." If I could take the llamas along I'd almost go back. But nah, I made a vow to stay above 4,800 feet elevation, minimum, for the duration of this existence, and I think I'll stick to it. I will, as Karen suggested in her comment yesterday, fill the silly non-hot tub with ferns (I have quite a few) until I get materials for a platform, which project must be postponed until I beef up the budget, which suffered another unexpected setback today. (I'm going to have to get better at expecting these things.) Two plants I've had for years have developed scale--yuck!--and I have to do something about it quick before the houseflies spread it to the others. An ad in the local paper tells me the local nursery has opened its doors for spring and so maybe I can get some Safer soap there and treat the ailing, sticky Schefflera and Dizygotheca. Our new llama still did not arrive on Saturday, but her dowry did, and a half-dozen bales of sort of yucky-looking hay lie pell-mell about the driveway now. I can use the really bad (moldy) bales on the garden, I suppose. And we discussed logistics for bringing the new llama in, and we may finally accomplish that next Saturday. They really must remove her from her long-weaned yet-ungelded male baby soon or something very Olde Greek and tragic may happen, if it hasn't already... I have dragged the iron-hearted piano 20 more feet, to the dining area, and there it sits; 35 feet to the front door (maybe next week). And then what? Well, tonight I distract myself with Rivers and Tides, on loan from my tortoise-owner friends. I've been watching it in 15-minute increments since last Friday. I want it to last a long time. Goldsworthy is an inspiration to me.
Finally, I send a shout out to my secret collaborator and best blogfriend Dana and wish him very good birthday. |
