further wildlife notes (in annoying helen fielding style)
Wednesday 28 January 2004 | I like a cookie
1) Mouse hops disgruntledly from green bucket which serves as kitchen bin and bounces off into dead leaves, unaware that tonight it will serve as appetizer for coyotes’ dining experience. Or perhaps it has sensed this, which is why it preferred safe boredom of life in my teacup.
2) On way back, pass New Mexican newspaper rack announcing Mr. Bad Hair 39% in NH, Dr. Dean a respectable 20-something, Mr. Edwards don’t even place nor show. He’ll make a good veep. Bend down, bin in one hand, cutting board in other, to study Hair (as seen in above-the-fold photo). Why? Why is it? Why doesn’t Mrs. Kerry clear her throat and suggest an alternative?
3) Pedometer which I have taken to wearing in pathetic-Americans-are-driven-by-numbers attempt to walk more, says I have taken exactly 2,207 steps upon awakening!
4) Heartened, seize blue plastic dustpan and attempt to clear away snow from front walk. Zeke and Mya, neighbor’s dogs, come and watch me attentively. Dogs love to watch people work, find it intriguingly mystifying. Snow has already melted and frozen to ice in places and couldn’t be chipped off with a pickaxe. Mya waves gross muddy chewtoy at me suggestively, without success.
5) Take mouse-free garbage to coyote-fence enclosure. Notice a) absence of rabbit rustling in junipers and b) large canine pawprints outside fence where Zeke and Mya cannot go. Realize I usually see rabbit ambling about on way to car and haven’t for several days. Wonder if this is because I don’t leave house enough or if canine pawprints are related.
6) Walk to post office in flagrant defiance of fact that not mailing anything. Pass PNM men with cherry-picker doing something to power lines. PNM Man in Picker cuts line which falls to blacktop with exciting metallic snaky zingzing rappelling sound! Cars and drivers wait impatiently as PNM Man with Orange Flag runs out into road and picks up fallen ropy line with gloved hand. At one point I assist by holding up my black-gloved hand sternly as one SUV driver gunning her engine.
7) At post office, stand at little laundry-folding-type counter with unknown man as we both sort our mail. Him: grey tonsorial fringe, tweed jacket with suede elbow patches, and still chewing what smells like an onion ring. Me: phone bill, Lands’ End catalog, an offer of 6 DVDs for 49 cents each to a Mr. Benito Martinez, and enticing catalog from Colorado Mountain School: 2004 Courses, Climbs and Expeditions. Guy with bleeding fingers and frozen moustache grinning on the front. Rock climbing porn. Don’t dare open in PO, know I will sigh audibly. Feel pecs surreptitiously, tender from PMS and from disastrous bench press yesterday at St John’s gym.
8) Walk home from PO and pass old tufty white-muzzled dog who has one of those collar-shocker things to keep him from going outside the yard. Doesn’t seem to be working as he runs right up to me barking and snarling all ferocious-like, then abruptly rests his chin in my palm and gazes mildly up at me. I coo, he wags and goes satisfied back to his porch.
9) Think, what is my damage. M. was my Almasy and now he’s not. Is that even possible? No one else comes as close to anything as he does. No one else wears khaki shorts with such brainy aplomb. I couldn’t be married to any other men I know—even the Librarian I would have to beat on a regular basis to make him even bearable to be around, insulting and retro-sexist as he can be. M. gorgeous and funny and kind and a genius, while I am plainly a nutter.
10) Think, I love living here. Look up at Sangres, SF Baldy, ski basin, Jemez, Ortiz, blueblue sky, smell pinon burning in someone’s fireplace. Realize I’m out of firewood. Step over crushed Budweiser bottle. Zeke and Mya bark enthusiastically as thoughnever seen me before in their lives. Fill (washed) teacup with whole-milk Brown Cow yogurt, virtuously add no maple syrup, and post this.
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