So I had the opportunity to go see David Sedaris at the Long Center Monday night. I left feeling inspired and dumb at the same time. He read selections from his diary, and I was blown away with how attentive he is to things that happen around him. When I kept a diary, my entries all boiled down to "today I got up, went to work, took care of various problems, complained about them to friends/co-workers, and am now going to bed". I finally stopped writing all together, as the sheer repetition of my entries was boring and depressing. As opposed to the excerpts from Mr. Sedaris' diary, which were entertaining, and revealed a man who is very aware of the stories enacted around him in normal life and can verbalize the most mundane scenario brilliantly.
So I've been inspired to try and pay more attention to things happening around me, as well as improve my skill at conveying those stories to others. I initially resolved to find and write at least one anecdote a day, but discovered that it's going to take a bit of practice to be able to do my job and tune into more than a flash of an anecdote, as I'm always flitting to different locations in the clinic. My stories from this week are all bits and pieces - the start, the end, the middle of a story, but not enough of any one thing to form a coherent thread. I need to either find a way to see stories in a fragment and write that bit, or keep a consecutive train of thought better.
Anyways. Deb, Arleen and Mom came over this morning for a bit of knitting. Mom is the knitting Guru, and I love to listen to her explaining the knitting tips and tricks. I remember her excited disquisitions when discovering a lot of those same tips and tricks during my childhood, and it's cool to see her get to share those skills with a more appreciative audience than myself. I never was very good with knitting.
In other news, I got a grill last week, and today ventured for a second time into the as yet uncharted territory (for me at least) that is grilling. So far, have made hamburgers, and today, tried Shish-ka-bob, with veggies, steak, chicken and shrimp. As per Mom and Arleen, it tasted good, but I need to work on my marinade, I think.
After lunch, we got to watch some 3rd season Dr. Who. Mom told me no other family members were allowed to visit until she got her fix this week, as I've let Truman, Kathryn and Edward usurp her time with the good Doctor. So we watched a few episodes. It's so gratifying to see Mum actually relaxing and enjoying a show and a glass of wine, and not feeling guilty about it. Though I have concerns about her withdrawals from Dr. Who when she doesn't get to come visit for a few weeks. It appears I have, in fact, created a monster.
:D
30 April 2011
11 April 2011
Things that go bump in the night....
Living in a house as opposed to an apartment has taken some getting used to. There are more creaks and squeaks around the place at night, not to mention more road noise due to the highway flyover being right by my place, but nothing I haven't gotten used to. I've adapted so well that the only thing that normally wakes me is the infernal trash truck that likes to bash the dumpster about behind my house at 3 AM every other morning.
Until about 2 weeks ago.
I was woken up in the middle of the night to the sounds of someone, or something, evidently having a tap-dance party on my rooftop, right over my bedroom. I immediately thought of the clutch of bums that like to crash in the green space behind my house, and tried to think of a reason they would be having a stomp-fest on my roof. On second evaluation, I realized it sounded big, but not big enough to be a person. I was exhausted, and didn't feel like going outside to do battle with an unknown foe on my rooftop, especially when my only weapons were a baseball bat and my bow and arrows. (While the bow and arrows sound like a decent defense against an elevated enemy, I learned how to shoot at the Stormtroopers School of Archery, and the odds of me hitting my opponent were....well, nil.)
So I took the typical approach of a six year old child - hid my head under my pillow and hoped it would go away.
It did....eventually.
Last night, my mysterious heavy-footed visitor returned, and woke me up again. This time, I was having none of it. Hobo, RoUS, cat or alien, I was done having my sleep disturbed. I stomped out back and around the house to see what was cavorting on my rooftop. I came around the corner to see a pair of black masked eyes peering cautiously down at me from near the ridge of the roof.
Raccoons. I should have known. I reached down to find a rock to throw, but was unable to find one. Great. Mr. Raccoon continued to look curiously and condescendingly down on me, so I did the only thing I could think of - hissed at him like a seriously annoyed cat. He looked somewhat disconcerted by this, but didn't move. I hissed again. He still didn't move. I stormed into the house to go find something to throw, came back out with my ice tray, and proceeded to pelt the little pest with ice cubes. I think he finally got the idea, and after a brief siege to the chimney area, he beat a hasty retreat.
Still not sure what he was up to on the roof, but I really hope the memory of an irate, hissing, ice-cube hurling female will be enough to make him think twice before he tries to have another expedition to my roof.
Until about 2 weeks ago.
I was woken up in the middle of the night to the sounds of someone, or something, evidently having a tap-dance party on my rooftop, right over my bedroom. I immediately thought of the clutch of bums that like to crash in the green space behind my house, and tried to think of a reason they would be having a stomp-fest on my roof. On second evaluation, I realized it sounded big, but not big enough to be a person. I was exhausted, and didn't feel like going outside to do battle with an unknown foe on my rooftop, especially when my only weapons were a baseball bat and my bow and arrows. (While the bow and arrows sound like a decent defense against an elevated enemy, I learned how to shoot at the Stormtroopers School of Archery, and the odds of me hitting my opponent were....well, nil.)
So I took the typical approach of a six year old child - hid my head under my pillow and hoped it would go away.
It did....eventually.
Last night, my mysterious heavy-footed visitor returned, and woke me up again. This time, I was having none of it. Hobo, RoUS, cat or alien, I was done having my sleep disturbed. I stomped out back and around the house to see what was cavorting on my rooftop. I came around the corner to see a pair of black masked eyes peering cautiously down at me from near the ridge of the roof.
Raccoons. I should have known. I reached down to find a rock to throw, but was unable to find one. Great. Mr. Raccoon continued to look curiously and condescendingly down on me, so I did the only thing I could think of - hissed at him like a seriously annoyed cat. He looked somewhat disconcerted by this, but didn't move. I hissed again. He still didn't move. I stormed into the house to go find something to throw, came back out with my ice tray, and proceeded to pelt the little pest with ice cubes. I think he finally got the idea, and after a brief siege to the chimney area, he beat a hasty retreat.
Still not sure what he was up to on the roof, but I really hope the memory of an irate, hissing, ice-cube hurling female will be enough to make him think twice before he tries to have another expedition to my roof.
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