A bit later, from the window, I spotted the bigger one lurking near my honeysuckle trellis. So I grabbed my camera. Then I trapped Ruth and Jewel in our bedroom so they wouldn't run and bark, and slipped through the deck door quietly enough that Lola didn't hear (at 14, her wolf-like ears are not as acute as they once were).
I have the strongest urge to grab him and give him a thorough combing! With a bit of effort, I could transform him into a brown hare faster than Mother Nature will.
If you felt the earth move this afternoon--shuddering strangely, or tilting abruptly on its axis--there's an explanation. There was an almost unpredecented occurrence in the universe.
I purchased a swimsuit.
I know, this really doesn't sound like an extraordinary event. Trust me, it was. I haven't bought a new suit in this millennium. In fact, I haven't bought one since the early 90's.
I've got two lake houses and three swimsuits. Two of the suits are black: a 2-piece and a 1-piece. They travel back and forth from lake to lake. The third is a madras plaid cotton 2-piece that dates from, at my best estimate, the mid-80's. I went a decade and a half without wearing it at all--it lived up at the cottage, forgotten, stuffed way, way at the back of a drawer. Last summer I found it useful, because I can slip shirts and slacks over it quickly and easily when I take the dogs for a walk.
The suit I bought today was a black 1-piece. Radically--for me--it has white straps and a white strip across the body. Accounting for the size inflation that has occurred since my last purchase, I guestimate it's actually same size as the others.
I think I'll keep this one at the cottage.
In a mood for change, I bought a pair of Isaac Mizrahi sunglasses--bigger than the ones I've been using, which came from Québec. And I got a skirt and two tops. Plus a pair of shoes. I've never been much of a shoe-buying fiend, but somehow I've acquired four pair in the past month. If I needed to justify this prodigality, I would cite the need to look sharp in the Legislature. Mostly it's the result of pent-up demand. I spent all last summer and the end-of-season sales searching for the exactly sorts of shoes I'm now able to find so easily.
The schmoozing began during my drive into the capital city--sort of. The Speaker of the House and I encountered each other during our simultaneous commute. Her passenger, whoever it was, waved at me.
My Big Schmooze was a morning meeting with His Excellency the Governor. He invited the freshman of the majority party into the Executive Council chamber to chat. It was a big crowd. He asked how the session was going, what legislation we were most pleased about (the answers varied, but their were repetitions). Then he discussed his education funding plans and asked for feedback--which he received--and support. (Whether he gets as much as he wants remains to be seen.)
Afterwards I was able to speak to him for a few minutes and express gratitude for his recent visit to my town and his tour of the flood damaged areas along the river and elsewhere.
Over in the Legislative Office Building I schmoozed with my own spouse, who was monitoring Senate hearings--and sported his new blue tie. We then had a nice Big Schmooze with the Minority leader who, it turns out, is a near neighbour up at the Big Lake. I didn't realise it, when Ruth and I took our walks around the Point all summer and autumn, we were passing his house. He gave us an update on the state of the roads up there.
At midday, the Chap and I had lunch together in the Dungeon cafeteria. One of his colleagues joined us. They headed back to the Senate hearing rooms and I escaped to the shops downtown and along my homeward route.
Another Big Schmooze tomorrow but I'm not naming names. (Not that I ever do, I only give the titles.)
Oh, @#$%. Double @#$%. Something's tromping around outside. And I haven't brought my bird feeders in for the night. Better see if it's the black bear paying a visit...has Lola gone so deaf she can't hear that noise?
How's that for a cliffhanger ending?
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