Night Hunting

There's nothing like stalking a cricket at 3 am. This one was carrying on at such a level of intensity, he woke me up. I'd almost managed to catch him before going to bed, but he avoided me then by cleverly employing the lip on the bookcase. At that point, he got scared enough to stay quiet for about four hours. But then he launched in again, slowly dragging me out of my dreams. I got up and moved things around in his general vicinity a few times, which was enough to quiet him down briefly. Apparently, however, the little critter had acquired some extra levels of boldness during the hours I slept, because he would stay inactive only until I turned the light back out.

So, it came down to hunting by sound. I waited for him to get his racket going at full tilt. Then, using small movements, I crossed the room. Still, he quieted as I approached. At first, I had concentrated my efforts on the bookcase, but after sitting still long enough to allow him to take up his serenade again, I realized the clever little bastard had moved.

Near the bookcase was the heap of items I have not yet unpacked. Some scattered clothes, a few boxes and two baskets temporarily containing my spare toiletries. I picked up a few clothing items. He kept chirping. I moved more clothes. Didn't phase him. Finally, I picked up one of the baskets. His chirping diminished to a cautious warble, and the sound moved with my hand. I had him!

Not getting overly sure of myself, I took the basket out into the front room. You see, we've established this cricket is clever. I didn't want him jumping away from me only to find a new hiding place equally effective at destroying my rest. The thing is, I actually rather like the sound of crickets chirping. Just not right in my bedroom.

Once in the other room, I turned the lights on and he fell silent. I took out two items from the basket, and there he was, clinging to the woven side. He took one look at my sleep deprived countenance and scampered deeper into the basket. He found an opened box of razor blades, and entered. He was really trapped now.

I picked up the box, removed the two unused blades from the inside, carried it (covering the opening with my hand to prevent last minute escape) to the nearest door, and ejected him into his native environment. I heard his shell click the cardboard edge of the box as he sailed clear, and the satisfying thunk as he landed on the ground a few seconds later.

Then I went back to bed and slept until morning.

Luckily, ice prevents swelling

Today will not go down in history as containing the best horseback ride I've ever had.

Tommy's problem, I have decided, lies entirely in over-dramatizing. He's overly-dramatic about changes: "Oh my god. Wait, wait guys. I can't walk. I absolutely can't walk. Did you know I don't have shoes on?"

He's overly dramatic about everything he encounters while on the trail: "I don't know. I think that's a car. It's definitely a car. I can't go any closer. Oh, it's moving! We'd better run."

He's overly dramatic about daily horse routine activities: "I realize you put my fly mask on every day, but TODAY, it might kill me."

And, he's overly dramatic about anything that doesn't fall into any of these categories.

But, in spite of the fact that he dumped me in the wash two days ago due to concern over a piece of partially buried flagging tape, hit me in the head with his head today and split my lip open due to fear of fly repellent, and still won't willingly approach me unless I have food, he's made progress in a lot of ways. I'm actually starting to like him. =)

Guns

Sometimes I have these moments when I think maybe my vast hatred for guns is irrational. Then something happens - in this case a friend of mine got shot in the back while loading his bike into his car - and I realize it is not. Seriously, how hard is it to check an area before firing guns into it? And who drives around and shoots out of their car windows in the first place?

If no one had guns, my friend would not be in critical condition.

I think my least favorite trait among humans is carelessness.

***

On a lighter note, today I opened a drawer, pulled some clothing out, put on the clothes and closed the drawer. This was exciting. I have not experienced such a thing in nearly a month. I am tired of moving.

Faulty RAM Wreaks Havoc

Did you know a computer won't even start to boot if one of the RAM chips is bad? I didn't. I do now. Computers are always so... educational. At least I became very familiar with taking mine apart last semester.

I've been hit with another building bug. Brian and Michelle are now proud owners of pages on vitzy.com. Liz, James, Sukha, Ty and my family members all have new pages. Autumn's page didn't change much. I'm still too fond of it.

These are all in the Inner Vitz. Directions for getting there are below.

If wishes were fishes...

Dude's new home is on the bathroom counter. My only fear is that he'll exhaust himself antagonizing the fish in the mirror. Or, perhaps he'll just change his ways.

For those of you who were pining away for the personal dimension of my website, The Inner Vitz has returned. Right now it is still fairly sparse, but hopefully it will grow pretty quickly. It's a little harder to get to now, tho. It has two tiers of security. First go to http://vitzys.com/robin, and the second step will be explained there. If you can't figure out the password based on the clue, feel free to ask for it.

I can't get it through my head that I'm really not going back to Flagstaff...

My zipponi heart is full of tacks. Some in the shape of shoes.

Today I pulled weeds and went for a horseback ride. Jak, my sister's horse, is too clever for his own good. But then, so is my sister sometimes.

Yesterday, I went through a couple drawers containing objects that were important to me in high school. Many of the things I found made me laugh. I threw almost all of them away. I sometimes wonder if I'm a little too good at leaving things behind. Perhaps I am just good at focusing on what is relevant.

Due to various reading I did today, I feel glad that I was not joined from the hips with a twin at birth, and also that I am not a hermaphrodite.

The very small moth sitting on my computer screen seems unconcerned when I trace around it with my mouse pointer.

Squishy or Speck died. I never could tell them apart. Now I'm down to one small orange fish.

Return

I came from the rolling hills of the midwest back to the desert... where the monsoons have been over-abundant. Walking around my parents land is a damp, weed-navigating experience. The plants are up to my elbows already. It never ceases to amaze me what water does out here. I enjoy the green blush on the hills, and Ruby is ecstatic about this new ball-hunting wilderness.

Tonite I'm on the road again. First to Phoenix for a visit with James, then an early stop at the airport to fetch Meryl and take her back to Flagstaff. I'll spend about two days up north, tying up loose ends etc. Then I can finally come back down here, unpack, situate, and stay for a while.

Travels

Last week we drove out of Arizona and through New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Missouri and into Iowa, where we hung out and set up Brian's little house in Iowa City.


The small towns are enchanting and I had a lot of fun getting to know the city.

On Sunday we came up to the Chicago suburbs, where his parents live. We've been playing "bags" in the yard, soaking in the hot tub and hanging out with the highly personable and mellow yellow lab, Lance.

Today, we plan to take the train into the city and see the sights... mainly the museums.

Thursday it's back to the desert for me. It's hard to believe I don't live in Flagstaff anymore. My apartment is already housing its new occupants. My little sister lives in Brian's old place. It's been such a whirlwind of a summer.

I am, however, excited about what I'm going back to.