Wild, Wild Life

Well, the rain has finally stopped, leaving 1.6 inches in the rain gauge and battered honeysuckle petals on the ground.

I woke to sun shining in the skylight – on some mornings, the sun seems way too sunny and cheerful when aimed directly at my face – and Audrey growling up a storm. I discovered Orange Cat sitting on my – I mean, Audrey’s – front porch. He took off as she pleaded with me to let her at him. I fed the cats and started coffee before opening the doors to give Orange Cat a head start. He may be twice her size, but little Audrey is the terror of neighborhood dogs and Orange Cat may not know what he’s getting into.

In other wildlife excitement, a hummingbird found its way into the house and couldn’t find its way out again. It was buzzing frantically against the highest window in the house, one I cannot reach even with a ladder. This entire house is too tall for me, including the one kitchen cabinet, having been built by a man who was well over six feet tall.

Fortunately, the hummingbird did the exact same thing that his buddy did last year, and flew over to the very skylight that woke me up this morning. I got a chair and a t-shirt, and, standing on the chair (and shooing an overly curious Clyde away), carefully put it over the buzzing bird. Then I took him out to the balcony, where he zoomed away to both of our reliefs. I even got a chance to admire his iridescent red and green plumage as he flew into the blue sky.

Rainy Morning

As I write, it’s raining outside. And inside, too – I was temporarily blinded by cold rainwater dripping in my eye on the way to the coffee pot this morning. I can hear the soft plop of rain falling on the wood floor as I type.

Oddly, the kitties are outside. The boys will eventually come in with soaked, spiky fur and muddy paws, and Audrey will somehow be magically dry, slipping through the door with a noise that’s somewhere between a purr and a complaint. They will try the other doors and discover that the weather is equally bad through each of them, and then either sit and stare at the rain as if they can psych it out, or zone out. Megan and I think our pets do that when nothing is fun is happening – they turn off. Not really asleep, just kind of a dial tone.

The rain is very unusual for this time of year. We rarely get rain in the summer months. We hardly got any rain in January and February, the traditional rainy months, so maybe this is all part of climate change. The timing of the unseasonal and unreasonable rain does mean that I missed the Super Moon, a disappointment given my close relationship with the moon. I’m trying to convince myself that I couldn’t have seen it through the trees anyway.

At least we aren’t flooded, like those poor people in Calgary, and I won’t have to water the garden for a couple of days. I hate watering, unsurprising since I dislike anything dull and inconvenient. If someone could invent a hose that didn’t kink, they’d be my personal hero. Especially if it didn’t weigh about 5,000 pounds. My current hoses (one for the front, one for the back, and one on the balcony) are super heavy and not supposed to kink, but you know they do anyway, usually as far away from me as possible so I get to trek over, unkink it, and get sprayed by the end that’s suddenly working again. Until the next kink. I’m pretty sure my hoses’ kink is sadism.

On the bright (sunny?) side, it’s my Friday. We hired a new guy at the jobette who took over working on Saturdays, so my new schedule is Sunday through Tuesday, plus the first Wednesday of each month. We will probably close on Sundays during the winter, so I’ll go back to Monday through Wednesday and have weekends free. Whether it rains or not.