| Goodbye and Hello |
[Nov. 30th, 2009|11:56 pm] |
Goodbye, November. Gee, it's hard to believe that we're only a month away from the tenth anniversary of the great Y2K disaster, when all the computers quit working and civilization collapsed. It seems like it was just yesteryear when I was cut off from the Internets, shivering in the dark. Oh, wait. That wasn't because of Y2K. It was because of Sluggo that I was cut off from the Internets, and because of PG&E's chronic power failures that I was shivering in the dark back then. I guess my memory is getting dim in my decrepitude.
Tonight I can shiver in the light of the full moon if I go outside. I might do that in a while. It isn't going to get any warmer anytime soon, so if I want to see the full moon I'll just have to put on a hoodie and a jacket and remember come back indoors when my toes go numb. Hello, December! |
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| Shiver |
[Nov. 29th, 2009|11:59 pm] |
I know I've long since jumped the shark with this whole weather obsession, but damn, the air's getting almost wintry here! I don't like wintry in November. I want autumn back!
The white moon looked nice rising above the nearly-bare trees tonight, though, and the red line of sunset at least looked warm even though the dusk was chilly.
In honor of vanished summer (and to remind me of how eager I was to leave it behind) here's an old favorite poem.
( Sunday Verse ) |
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| Smelly |
[Nov. 28th, 2009|11:52 pm] |
The whole night smells of wood smoke. Multiple fireplaces and wood stoves must be blazing. It's very unlikely there'd be a wildfire this time of year, especially after the recent rains. Still, the smell is a disturbing reminder.
I'm getting very Internet lazy. I keep going to the same sites over and over and seldom see anything new. Not that I can spare the time to look at anything new.
Those feral cats living in my yard have all the time in the world, though. I heard them romping on the roof a while ago. They never have to hunt for food. Brave Kitty and Alger have both begun hopping onto the counter outside my kitchen window, and Portia hops onto the kitchen table, and the cats look at one another through the glass. None of them seem especially pleased. In fact, Portia and the ferals give each other some very dirty looks. I keep the shade down most of the time. Kitty hatred is a terrible thing to behold.
So many dead leaves! |
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| It is a dark and stormy night.... |
[Nov. 27th, 2009|11:55 pm] |
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A thunderclap woke me just before three o'clock in the afternoon. I looked out the window to see a splendid downpour with scatterings of hail. The fury didn't last long, and within minutes the storm had settled down to a drizzle. By dusk, the clouds broke and glowed a dusty pink in the sun's last light. A few wisps drifted near the bright, gibbous moon. Now the clouds are back and rain beats the roof for a few minutes, then quiets, then returns, again and again. It will probably be gone by tomorrow, so I'll enjoy it while I may. |
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| Go Free, Turkey |
[Nov. 27th, 2009|12:00 am] |
Lots of dogs are barking and howling this evening. I suspect that they have been thrown out of their houses while Thanksgiving dinners are being consumed. Or perhaps they were given underdone turkey and are suffering with salmonella. No risk of salmonella for me, as no fowl has entered my mouth today. There was a nice baked potato with crispy skin, though.
Rain on the way. |
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| Frolic |
[Nov. 25th, 2009|11:51 pm] |
Portia found one of those pieces of plastic that goes around the necks of bottles and has decided it's a cat toy. I guess that makes it a cat toy. She has begun having periodic bouts of cat lunacy now that she's indoors most of the time. Shredded paper marks her passage through the house. So far she hasn't overturned any furniture. The feral cats overturn the resin chairs on the back porch now and then. The indoor furniture is heavier, and Portia is only one cat. I do fear for certain lamps, though.
The afternoon, of which I experienced about ninety minutes, was balmy for November. The yard is strewn with dead leaves, which I must eventually get around to raking. There's no big rush, though the lawn would probably be better off without a crunchy brown carpet obstructing its access to the sunlight. The autumn leaves are pleasant to see, on or off the trees. The lawn will just have to do its best to survive them.
Oh, and a dandelion is blooming in my back yard. In November. What's up with that? |
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| Not Very Bright |
[Nov. 24th, 2009|11:55 pm] |
If I don't start getting more sunlight I might turn into a bat. It's not the sky's fault, since it's been mostly clear, but the fault of my catawampus schedule.
Speaking of catawampus, one of the feral kittens made it onto the roof this afternoon. I suppose if the other two discover the way up there'll be lots of playing going on up there. Romping cats on the roof will be an interesting addition to the various other alarums and excursions lately prevailing here. Well, after I've turned into a bat I won't care, as I'll be out flying around at night and hanging around in a cave all day. I ought to tidy my room before I go batty, though. Should I return in bat state, I won't have hands for cleaning things up. |
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| So |
[Nov. 24th, 2009|04:03 am] |
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I keep missing days. Didn't wake up until after four o'clock yesterday afternoon. There was a sunset, but it didn't compare with the sunrise I saw but hadn't wanted to that morning. Well. Now most of the night is pissed away. The rain is long gone. The leaves have dried and the breeze is making them skitter across the pavement. Soon I'll see another sunrise I'd rather sleep through. So it goes. |
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| Damp Day |
[Nov. 22nd, 2009|11:14 pm] |
A bit more rain arrived this morning, and then afternoon brought a fog thick enough to dim the pines a few hundred feet away. Closer, red leaves and yellow leaves brightened the gray day, and pearls of water glistened on blades of grass. No breezes stirred the chilly air, but the woodpeckers kept silence at bay.
The feral cats, undeterred by the cold, engaged one another in play fights. Then one of them came close as I sat in the chair on the back porch, sniffed my foot, and then backed away quickly. I wonder if it was some strange smell that made him look so startled, or if he had simply surprised himself with his sudden bravery? He is almost fully grown, and he suddenly reminds me of when I first saw the gray cat, years ago. He was smaller then than this kitten, probably his, is now.
I've only seen the gray cat once this month. I wonder where he is keeping himself? I wonder if he's warm enough, and fed, and dry?
( Sunday Verse ) |
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| Brrrish On Autumn |
[Nov. 21st, 2009|11:57 pm] |
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The one good thing this time of year about being kept up way past my bedtime is that I get to see the rising sun kindle the deep gold leaves of the oaks and the brighter gold leaves of the walnut tree. Maybe I then dream about them, but I don't remember my dreams. The dreams are probably smothered by the layers of blankets I must use if I'm to keep the gas bill from eating even more of the budget. It's been quite a cold snap (which no doubt accounts for the sudden spectacle of leaf coloration) but there should be a couple of warmer days next week. The nights, though— well, I feel sorry for the feral kitties. |
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| Clocks Can't Help Me Now |
[Nov. 21st, 2009|02:26 am] |
It's been a long time since I've been at the computer at this time of night. My schedule has gone totally crazy. I slept through most of the rain we had today, though I remember waking up a couple of times to listen to it. It's probably the rain's fault, in part, that I woke up so late. It kept lulling me back to sleep. Stupid restful rain!
I have a persimmon. Envy me! Envy my soon-to-be-furry yet delighted tongue! |
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| Nooooovember |
[Nov. 20th, 2009|12:50 am] |
Oh, there goes midnight again. Even though I finally got a couple of hours of free time today yesterday, my brain couldn't come up with anything interesting to write about. Perhaps my disrupted sleeping schedule has deprived me of so much sunlight that I'm settling into one of those dismal states of year-end lethargy.
The free time earlier means I'll be kept busy later. That doesn't go well with lethargy.
Good news is I got several packages of these at less than half the regular price at Safeway. Just in time for baking season! I'm not going to bake with them, though. I'm going to devour them right out of the bags. |
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| Going |
[Nov. 18th, 2009|11:45 pm] |
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The oak leaves have reached the gold stage of their decay. They are best around dusk, when the dark branches, now largely exposed, seem to stand out and the lace overlay of leaves recedes and flattens even as their color grows deeper. For a few minutes the scene looks like a painting, but it is art that will soon cease to exist. Until then it will undergo a subtle change each day, unless some wind or extreme cold arrives to hasten the dropping of the leaves. I watch tonight's version of the year's work dim and vanish as darkness absorbs the view. The greater portion of autumn has already passed. A flock of geese flying ahead of winter accompany the day's last light, and it is gone while their calls still vibrate the chill air. |
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| Drizzle |
[Nov. 17th, 2009|11:59 pm] |
The rain began falling late this afternoon, but once again there has been little more than a few intermittent showers. The clouds are thick, though, so there'll probably be no meteors for me tonight (unless one should crash into the neighborhood!) The sky cleared late last night and I did see half a dozen faint meteors early this morning, despite having been outside infrequently. Early Tuesday was supposed to be the peak of the Leonid shower. Had I been able to remain outside more, I might have seen a few bright ones.
Speaking of showers, I keep missing mine because the aged parents are keeping me so busy, so the only time I'd have to take one is after mom has gone to sleep, and if I take one then the noise will wake her up and she'll start keeping me busy again. My head itches. |
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| Hopiness |
[Nov. 16th, 2009|11:58 pm] |
Altered forecasts now say that rain could fall tomorrow and Thursday, but that it might be only partly cloudy here on Wednesday, which means I just might get to see some sky on one of the peak nights for the Leonid meteor shower. The weather is not highly predictable in these parts during November, though, so I won't hold my breath. It would be nice to see a few of Leo's lights, though. The Leonids can show dozens of meteors an hour in a good year, and this might be one of those years. Plus, the thin waxing moon will set early that night. Aside from the inevitable chilliness, clear sky would make this a perfect year to get Lionized.
Oh, look at the lateness. I must away. |
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| Autumn Wood |
[Nov. 16th, 2009|03:13 am] |
Bright afternoon dons the gray shroud of evening, but night casts it aside to run naked, its bareness unseen in darkness. The arching sky is pinned in place by stars. A bird, its sleep disturbed by my passage, rustles a bush. Colder and colder, the breeze rises. I hear dead leaves scrape the pavement, dying leaves brush one another, filling the night with clicks. Some of the pines whisper, some of the pines moan, some of the pines wail.
( Belated Sunday Verse ) |
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| Cold Bright |
[Nov. 15th, 2009|02:00 am] |
It's getting awfully chilly around here. I'm worried about 1) the feral cats and 2) the gas bills we'll be getting. I could let the feral cats in the house so they'd be warmer and that would make better use of the gas, but I don't think they'd come it. Well, Alger might come in, but I'm sure he'd want the door left open, which would let the house get colder and defeat the whole purpose. Even though he hisses and growls every time he sees me, he's still very curious about the house and peers in through the door every time it's open. He's a strange little kitty, and has very pretty green eyes. It's too bad he's so wild. His fur looks very soft.
Oh, I saw a single bright, fast-moving meteor about ten o'clock. That would be an early Leonid. The peak is on the 17th and 18th. Alas, we are to have clouds and probably rain those nights. That early stray is probably all I'll get to see. |
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| Metal |
[Nov. 14th, 2009|12:21 am] |
More leaves are turning brown and yellow and red. Autumn's rustic colors. This year a reddish brown is even appearing on a building. The building didn't turn color. It's just that it didn't have any walls until a couple of days ago, and when the walls went on they suited the season perfectly. The building is just beyond my back fence, and is an enormous skyscraper. Well, by comparison to most buildings around here it's an enormous skyscraper. It's a three-car garage with an extra-high ceiling to accommodate an RV. It's the reason a few trees were taken out of that yard a few months ago.
It will serve the double-wide mobile home (aka peckerwood palace) the occupants of which have heretofore made do with the shiny, corrugated metal-skinned two-car garage which has provided me with so much autumn entertainment as a percussion instrument for the oak trees that loudly drop acorns on it. The new, larger garage also has a metal skin, though not of shiny galvanized steel. It has the reddish-brown metal, probably an extruded aluminum product, on its walls, and a tasteful off-white metal for its roof.
The roof went on today, and so far I haven't heard what the acorns can do with it. The oaks have fewer branches overhanging the new garage than they have over the old one, so the new one might turn out be only a minor player in the acorn orchestra despite its considerable size. I hope there's a bit of wind soon. I fear that most of this years bountiful acorn crop has already dropped, and I might have to wait for the next year that brings a big acorn crop to hear the full potential of the new roof. That might be quite some time, as many years the oaks here produce only small crops.
Sadly, that's the most interesting thing that's happened here in ages— that is if you don't count the fires last year or the various dramas created by the aged parents. I'm not counting those because I'd rather forget about them. Anyway, hooray for metal roofs. Without them I'd have even less amusement than I do. |
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| Time Again |
[Nov. 13th, 2009|01:41 am] |
It's been nothing but alarums and excursions around here today. Extremely old people can be surprisingly active. I can barely keep up with their various demands, disturbances, and disruptions. Oy.
Need a vacation. Or at least a nap.
I cancelled the daily paper. It's the first time in decades I haven't had a subscription, but it's gotten costly and I frequently don't even have time to read it any more. Sorry, newspaper business. I'm contributing to the collapse now. |
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| Drippy |
[Nov. 11th, 2009|11:09 pm] |
Somebody forgot to fill the clouds all the way. We get drips of rain, but not enough to arouse me from my torpor. I'd like a vigorous rain to bring a bit of drama to this dull autumn, but then the roof would leak. Emptying pots of water is tedious, and if the leakage started the long-expected electrical fire, that would be a bit too much drama. Ont he other hand, having the house burn down would certainly get rid of the mold problem that prior leakage has induced. And thereafter boredom would be the least of my worries.
Why are the Internets failing to entertain me tonight? And there's not even a moon to look at with all those clouds.
TV time. |
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