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cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.
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» Wednesday, July 14, 2010Primordial Swamp
My God—just went out to refill the bird feeders before full dark and commando groups of mosquitoes begin circling the deck. It's 80°F out there, at 9:15 p.m. and the air is warm and heavy with moisture (and it didn't even rain today). The nice breeze that was there earlier is gone. The cicadas and some other creatures are vying for the honor of making the most noise, loud even against the voices from the trailer park behind us. Reminds me of the summer my mom died; it rained every day, sometimes for not more than fifteen minutes, but long enough to make you easily able to imagine the stories you learned in science class of dinosaurs and giant insects lumbering around amongst the huge ferns of the swamps, with that fetid hot mud/composting vegetation scent in the air.
Overwhelmed, inundated, smothering in work. Lord knows it's as hard as slogging through the primordial ooze. I could use a machete against the purchase orders just as well as against the rapidly growing plants at the very rear of the property. Rescued by Leo LaPorte, Doctor Who podcasts, and (in desperation) Christmas music.
New Rick Sebak special just finished: Breakfast Special. I do think I like it better when he visits more places, and I don't usually like the "quick cut" style of narration these days. I'd love to eat at the New York place at the sugarbush that's only open two months a year (during sugaring off season, of course). Real maple syrup and buckwheat pancakes. Yum.
(Must get James to make buckwheat pancakes for Jen...)