What if the giant maid stops shoveling your frogpoops out of the patio closet when the weather turns cold and wet?

3:49 a.m.

Crikey... ... ...crikey... ... ...crikey... ... ...CRIKES!!!

Huh...

What if you're a flat little closet frog...

...about an inch across...

...and you hop out onto the cold, wet patio cement from your smooth dry closet cardboard...

...and a big fat raindrop lands SPLAT!!! right on your flat little head?

My Wild Life

I wake up... it's 3:30 in the morning... I hear a chiching noise outside my window.

What, I wonder, is a squirrel doing up at this hour? I've never known squirrels to be nocturnal, although, admittedly, I have not stayed up all night watching the oak tree.

There again... chich.... and again...

But wait, it's not exactly chich, it's more like ch-chirr... and again... and again...

I pop up and peek between the blinds... as if I'd be able to spot some small animal out in the darkness.

Ch-chirr...

Ah, right below my window.

Ch-chirr... ... ... ch-chirr... ... ... ch-chirr...

Oh... it's my flat little closet frog... out for a dalliance?

"Hello, flat little closet frog," I say quietly through the glass into the darkness. I'm surprised that he hears me, stops ch-chirring.

"Sorry," I say, more quietly, "I didn't mean to disturb you."

I lay back down. Soon enough, he goes on about his business.

Ch-chirr... ... ... ch-chirr... ... ... ch-chirr...

A little while later he's finished...

...probably back in the closet...

...making another surprisingly large frogpoop on my stepladder...

...4:20...

...4:30...

...4:40...

...what the fuck, I might as well get up.

The Dogs of Suburbia

Lots here in my dad's neighborhood are large, about a quarter acre, I think I once heard. Most of the yards are fenced, and a dog living here has plenty of backyard to call his own. This one, who lives across the street, was free-ranging one morning when I went out for a walk. He saw fit to bark at me and came over to inspect, but was not the friendly, cuddly type. Another dog, whose backyard is next to my dad's, also barks at me but is not friendly.

I find it pretty interesting, these suburban dogs with nice lives, so edgy and unfriendly. Quite a contrast to the laid-back, easy-going dogs I met in Mexico.

The Lip-Sync Mirror

This mirror has hung on my parents' living room wall for fifty years now. This is how it looked this morning, before I combed my hair or got out of the comfy oversized sweats I slept in last night.

As a kid, I spent most weekday afternoons after I got home from school in this very spot. Our old black & white TV was tuned to American Bandstand, and I was a rock & roll star, lip-syncing with equal sincerity to There's a Moon Out Tonight or Blue Moon, Town Without Pity or Where the Boys Are, Hound Dog, Bird Dog or Puppy Love, or my personal all-time favorite, Angel Baby. (I even like John Lennon's cover version, which so nicely keeps the spirit of the Rosie & The Originals original.)

Parade

Bush Pilot: A Nightmare

L--- and I are walking home. We've reached the top of a hill, the elevation of which is a few hundred feet. Below us is the highway and a business and shopping area. There's an average amount of traffic on the highway, which is always fairly busy.

"That's the dirtiest airplane I've ever seen," L--- says to me.

"What airplane?" I ask, not seeing or hearing any airplane.

"That one," she says, pointing up.

We are under a canopy of leaves, so I take a step backwards and look up. Indeed, there is a huge, wide-bodied aircraft flying silently right over us, headed in the direction we've just come from. And she is right. It has the dirtiest, greasiest underbelly I've ever seen on any aircraft.

Oddly, L--- hasn't mentioned how low this plane is. It is very low. As we stand speechless on the hill and watch, it sinks lower and lower. There is no landing gear, but it is headed roughly parallel to the highway. At last, without a wheel to land on, it bellies onto the earth right next to the highway.

The earth doesn't seem to slow it down at all as it toboggans forward on its greasy underbelly. We watch as it cuts a swath of destruction through the valley. The left wing has been smashed off entirely, and the right wing tears over the highway, slamming into everything in its path, scattering wreckage and bodies in its wake.

I don't realize it's a political dream until I write that last sentence.

Mexico Flower, and a Meme

I've enjoyed reading responses to the Alphabet Meme at A Breath of Air and several other places, and since I don't seem to be otherwise inspired this week maybe this will jog me out of my stupor.

accent: When I first moved to the west coast, I was told I had a midwest accent, but nobody's said that in quite some years. I never could discern any difference between my speech and that of people here, nor can I hear any difference when I go back to the midwest, so I don't know what they were talking about. It's certainly not like a Minnesota or Dakota accent, which I do notice when I hear it. So. I guess that's a no, eh?

booze: about once a year, in something sweet and fruity

chore I hate: anything that can be called a chore

dogs/cats: love both, have neither

essential electronics: computer and peripherals, camera, microwave, digital timer, cordless phone with headset, Walkman, and my newest requirement, the Black & Decker Brew 'N Go coffee maker... yes, yes, I know I've left out the TV... yes, yes, I watch the blasted thing every day, but I do fantasize about giving it up and I don't do that with any of the others.

favorite perfume/cologne: fresh air

gold/silver: I don't wear jewelry much, but if you're thinking of sending me coins, I guess gold will do.

hometown: a suburb of Detroit

insomnia: Not while I'm trying to watch TV, dang it, but after I wake up and turn off the TV, yeah, then.

job title: retiree

kids: I'd hardly call them that anymore.

living arrangements: breathe, eat, sleep, pay taxes

most admired trait: creativity

number of sexual partners: Hey, I'm not that good at multi-tasking--the only thing I'm "doing" right now is a meme!

[Hmm... nobody responds to that prompt with an actual number!]

overnight hospital stays: childbirth and the occasional surgery

phobia: public speaking (good thing I have no phobia about saying something unoriginal)

quote: "Those who learn nothing from history are doomed to repeat it." Santayana

religion: Too many wars are fought over this, and too many people use theirs as justification for the heinous things they do to others.

siblings: a sister

time I usually wake up: to stay? usually between 5:00 and 6:00, a definite lark

unusual talent: finding efficient ways to do things

vegetable I refuse to eat: canned spinach

worst habit: ignoring stuff that needs my attention

x-rays: one too many!

yummy foods I make: Piquant Garbanzo Salad (p. 96, Lean and Luscious and Meatless); Barley Salad Vinaigrette

zodiac sign: Leo