Just another manic Saturday

I know the line is supposed to say Monday but it's Saturday.

I get a little manic just before I leave for any length of time. Color me manic. And it has been a manic week.

A friend, Dean Haskins KAØPII (otherwise known affectionately as cow pie), fell and hit his face and head when his ladder collapsed. He's still in ICU with a basilar skull fracture, cracked ribs, possible blown ear drum, and broken nose -- to name a few injuries. So far things look good and we're all hoping for a full recovery. Dean is one of the VEs I share duties with up in Woodland Park every other month and one of the sweetest and knowledgeable hams I know.

My vacation partners are having their own run of bumps in the road with changed plans, a car dead on the side of the road and the usual pre-vacation jitters. This trip will be good for both of them as they need to get out of Dodge (or Independence).

In addition to all my pre-vacation chores, barges and bales, I just remembered I'm supposed to have lunch with my two favorite pagans this afternoon at Poor Richard's and I haven't even begun to make a dint in my chores. After many nights of long naps in lieu of sleep, I slept long and undisturbed until 4:44 AM, answered nature's call and promptly went back to bed until a little after 8 AM. I've been clearing out email and catching up on essential news since then. Since I haven't been very posty this week due to end of pay crunch time and a lot of wasted time looking for sufficient work to fill out my quota (and not getting nearly enough) I decided to take the time to write this morning. And, yes, I am procrastinating just a little. You would, too, if you saw the overflowing basket of clothes to be washed, trash to be carted out to the alley and kitchen to be cleaned, and I haven't even had my morning soy protein powder and fruit drink breakfast yet. I also have a list to make and books to cull and pack because I'm going to spend a good part of my vacation reading and writing, but I'm also giving away a big chunk of books I've read and reviewed. I will also take a few books I need to read and review. What most people don't understand is that I'm definitely looking forward to all the reading and writing and reviewing. That is a true vacation for me and something I sorely miss since I went back to work on a regular job and don't have nearly as many hours to relax with a book.

My friends and I are going to take a little trip up to my old stomping grounds and I'll show them where I once lived and maybe drop in on a few of my friends at the library and the Winter Park Market. We might even be able to cadge a free fruit smoothie or bowl of vegetarian soup while we're there. I'm also going to try out the wireless feature on my new laptop while we're cruising around Grand County.

In the meantime I'll leave you with this image.

The other morning while I was sitting at my desk as the sun was blushing on the horizon, movement on the street below me caught my eye. I didn't have my contact in but I was fairly certain of what I saw. Still, not wishing to be too gullible or trust too much to sleep hazed eyes, I waited and the lithe form trotted past again. Red fur coat, long brush of a tail and a delicately pointed snout lifted to the wind, the fox trotted up and down the street, hopped up the curb and slipped quickly along the fence line across the street. Nothing else move in the street and the squirrels playing tag and wrestling on the sidewalk scattered to the safety of the trees while the fox was in sight. The sun topped the horizon in a bloody show of late spring strength and the neighbors' lights winked on here and there. The fox stopped at the corner and lifted his nose to the wind, wary and ready to run t ground. With the humans stirring, their dogs would not be far behind, and moments later the first bark sounded in the clear chill air. Without hesitation, the fox leaped into the street and headed west racing the sun and the clock and was soon lost to sight.

I live in the city in a quiet neighborhood and still close enough to the wild rocks and pine forests that deer and skunks and raccoons and foxes flit in and out of sight like wraiths in the morning mists and before the rest of the world is awake. The animals inhabit the shadows after sunset when the noise of children playing and music and the scent of BBQ wafting on the breeze are merely echoes on the rising breeze. Humans have pushed the wild things farther and farther from their hunting grounds but they return when all is quiet to exercise new hunting skills and teach their young how to survive in the urban wilderness, adapting to a new way of life in order to survive.

The fox reminded me of last year when one day the trees outside my sunroom windows were full of blue jays and the next day black with raucous crows. He also reminded me of the coyotes whose eyes burned like hellish fires when my headlight caught a pair of them crossing the road in front of me late one night. These wild things exist out of sight most of the time, seldom more than a flitting shadow in the corner of your eye, but they are never far from me as I haunt the times between darkness and dawn in the cool crisp breeze blowing through my windows and I am thankful once again to be living here in the land of my dreams.