Tag Archives: wet

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Black cat

Sol Duc is pretty happy to be home, even though we do not have a cat door. The yard does not have a secure fence, the road is fast and busy for here, and anyhow, birds.

A black cat for the season, lit with purple, to go with the pumpkins and orange haired nightmare goblins and completely insane speeches and advertisements. Eeeeee, much of it is way more horrific and terrifying than any costume, not just black on the outside, but charred all the way through.

In the photograph, Sol Duc is in the radiant sauna. She approves of it. I am cold here, not because it’s much colder than Grand Junction, but I’m not used to the wet any more. We moved here arriving on New Year’s Eve 2000 and that first winter just felt awfully cold, dampness through to my bone marrow. We were used to it by the second winter.

My pump is ordered and should be fixed next Wednesday. I have two friends who offered their washing machines in the interim, but it was the towels that cleaned up the mild flooding that I had to wash. I went to the laundromat with those.

Now, what shall I be for Halloween? I am invited to a costume party with prizes. The only thing that has occurred to me so far is to dress up as a mesa. I suppose the most horrifying costume I could choose is a political advertisement, ick.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: pumpkin.

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Seeing rain

I like it when you can see the rain coming, the cloud in the distance with the rain coming down in lines and strands. I can smell the ozone and everything waking up in the rain, as if all the plants are talking to each other. “Oh, here it comes and I am so thirsty!”

“Wait, that’s a bit too much!” “Eeeee, hail!”

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: rain.

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Wet

I am Elwha.

I am small and my sister and I chase each other in and out of the house. In to all the rooms! One day I jump in the big white smooth receptacle and it is full of water! Warm! and I can’t touch bottom! I can’t get out! I HOWL!

Mother comes, fishes me out and puts me down. I run out of that room. She drops a big cloth over me and rubs me a little. I am drenched and I smell like flowers! It takes hours to clean up. My sister sniffs me and laughs.

I never jump in there without looking again.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: drenched.

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Daily Evil: W is for Wild

Is wildness evil? What sort of wildness? The forest and waves and wilderness are not things we think of as evil, but some wildness in humans seems very evil. Some is silliness, some is substances, and some is truly violence and cruelty and terror and evil.

This is another of Helen Burling Ottaway’s fantasy etchings, titled The Hunt, number 6 of 30, 1986. A merman with a trident and dogfish, with a variety of tails. The etching is 6.75 by 8, the paper 11 by 15. I like the lines of movement, of waves, from the escaping shark.

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Camellia again

My camellia IS blooming, but you can see what the weather is doing. Rain, rain, rain. This morning it is currently 41 and a high of 50 is predicted. I photographed the camellia from my desk chair.

There are birds nesting in the camellia. A family of golden crowned sparrows are popping in and out of the camellia. It is about 8 feet tall and 5 feet wide and thick, so they seem pretty safe there. Yesterday there were six on the ground below the feeder. I did not know what they were when I saw the first one and had to look them up: here.

We did have a few hours of sun in the afternoon yesterday. Still cool, but I sat outside with a cup of tea. Lovely.

For Cee’s Flower of the Day.

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mysterious

Ok, so the reason the bath mat is on the rack is because it is WET. And what does Sol Duc do? Climb right one and lie on it. Me: “The bath mat is wet AND the rack can fall down.”

Sol Duc: “I am totally loving wet bath mat plus it needs fur.”

Me: “All we need is for Elwha to join in.”

Siblings can be SOOOO annoying.

OOOOOoooo this fits the Ragtag Daily Prompt for Monday: PITCH. As in Sol Duc’s fur, pitch black.

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outfits inappropriate for work 3

Ok, maybe it is not inappropriate for work. But it would be a little weird for work… I was going in the woods with my oxygen tank. “Local doctor of 21 years found eaten by cougar, which then died because it couldn’t digest the oxygen tank.” Heh.

Listening to this, fabulous!!!

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ski trip

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: dirt.

What worries a skier about the opening photograph?

Yesterday the introverted thinker and I went water skiing. On Mount Baker. It rained the whole time. Cold! And the introverted thinker’s knee hurt. We bagged it once I had ice puddles in my ski boots and could squeeze a stream out of my ski gloves.

On the very first lift ride, I realized that my wrist pocket was unzipped. Cash was still in there but the car key wasn’t. We skied down and I checked each place I’d been. No key. We got back on the lift and watched. There were a lot of small black specks. We discussed how much fun it would be to wait for AAA on the top of the mountain.

We skied down, going very slowly right under the lift.

FOUND IT!

Whew. After that neither of us whined. We skied until we were soaked. Her knee was being uncooperative and she was skiing warily. I couldn’t wear goggles because then my glasses fogged too much. Neither of us could see much through the rain. We went up a higher lift and then it was heavy wet slushy snowing. Then we really couldn’t see. Both nearly crashed skiing by proprioception, when a dip was invisible. I stopped at a sign and then fell backwards, visual cues just weren’t working for balance. Unhurt.

And what does this have to do with dirt? I started skiing at age 9 on the east coast, in upstate New York. We would go from Johnson City and meet my uncle and cousins at the small Labrador Mountain ski area. It was a family area. The snow was often awful. We skiied on ice, slush and dirt. Patches of dirt would show through and we learned to avoid them and avoid the rocks. The first time I skiied powder in Colorado I was mystified: I didn’t know how to ski it. But slush on top of hardpacked moguls? No problem.

So skiing Baker put me back to my tweens. The conditions were so familiar. My body was so comfortable with really crappy snow. The ungroomed parts had so much water on top that skis practically stopped. If I had been dressed in foul weather gear I could have skied most of the day.

But soaking wet is another matter. We turned in the skis and ate a late lunch. Happily used the car key to get dry clothes. Changed and drove back to Bellingham. We had a fabulous dinner looking out over the bay with a wonderful sunset.

Bellingham Bay with yellow, orange, pink and blue sunset over islands.
dinner and a sunset

Blessings all.