Journal of a Sabbatical

December 2, 1998

here and there

The wind blew like crazy last night. Trees fell down. Onto cars. Right here in North Andover. Thankfully not onto my car. Speaking of cars, the Beans of Egypt Maine are gone but the blue Pontiac is still in their parking space. Come to think of it, it has been sitting in that parking space since they moved in. It's got expired Maine license plates and no valid inspection sticker. It doesn't appear to be registered. I wonder if the biker chick knows they left the car behind. No sign of any new neighbors yet.

For some reason my joints ache. Arthritis is not sufficient explanation. In fact my knee is fine, it's my fingers and toes and jaw and ears ... wait a minute, do I have ear joints? I sat down on the bed for a minute to change my socks and woke up an hour later. What up with that?

Sometime later... Apparently the blue Pontiac doesn't start either. Another car is out there giving it a jump start. The driver guns the engine and it roars for a few seconds and dies. Repeat 16 times. The blue Pontiac is now out of the parking space and smack dab in the middle of the parking lot with the other car right behind it. Maybe they're going to push it. More engine revving and stalls. And yet more. Finally the blue car creeps slowly out of the parking lot with the other car following close behind. So, I guess they and their possessions are really gone. Now to clean up the cigarette butts.

The dirty dishes were once again all collected and waiting for me when I got to the shelter. Bob is back, which means the trap under the sink gets cleaned on a regular basis again - for some reason, Bob really likes to do it and none of the rest of us do. The windows were open to let in the mild air. The weather is extremely un-autumnal. Molly stretched up to her full length to peer out the window and let the breeze ruffle her fur. She looked like she should be in a commercial for something - I dunno - allergy meds or something - the things they advertise with glorious outdoor shots of windblown hair so you think they're selling shampoo but it's really nothing to do with hair. Ralfie has gone to his adoptive home. Chantal and Alexis will go to the home of the kid who likes to wipe boogers off Chantal's nose tonight for a kind of foster leading to adoption thing. Apparently one of the kids might be allergic to cats or might not be or might be only when there's 45 as opposed to two. Here's hoping she's not allergic to Alexis and Chantal. Those sisters need a home!

A flock of Northern pintails flew over my head this afternoon at Stage Island. That long stiff tail trailing behind the males in flight makes it look like they're going even faster than they are. Like those lines they use to indicate motion in cartoons.

I thought there'd be a lot of interesting birds blown in on last night's wind, and the weather was so perfect - cloudless blue sky and shirtsleeve temperatures - that I couldn't pass up a brief trip to the refuge after work at the cat shelter. It was pretty quiet birdwise though. The aforementioned Northern pintails, a small flock of buffleheads , and a flock of about 20 common eiders riding the waves off Emerson Rocks was about it. I spent a long time just walking on the beach and soaking up the sunlight.

I had a nice lunch of grilled cheese and tomato at The Coffee Aroma, and basically used up the daylight outdoors. I feel such pressure to make the most of every nice day because of course it's the last one there's ever going to be... except that the weather dudes are predicting the whole rest of the week will be unseasonably warm an sunny...