Last week, I went to my cousin's house, and we stayed up to watch the premiere of "Loki," the newest series from Marvel Studios. It dropped at midnight Pacific time, so it was quite late when we got to see it (and we had to reboot my cousin's television partway through because Disney+ never works right on his TV). But because of that, I was kind of sleepy, and because of that, I didn't glean all that I maybe should have out of the show. Didn't even enjoy it all that much.
But everybody else I talked to absolutely loved it, and so I asked my cousin if, last night, we could re-watch the first episode around midnight, in preparation for the second one. He was amenable to that, but did look over several times, even before "Loki," to make sure I hadn't fallen asleep. To make doubly sure I'd be awake, I drank a soda around eleven-thirty or midnight, and it had kicked in by the time the new episode dropped. I still don't know that I love the show--I like my God of Mischief with a little more power and a lot of bite--but I was totally awake throughout.
Even so, it was very late when I went home, and I could feel my brain slowing down, even if my body was totally fine, so I played the Only 9's and 10's game on the radio, which, because it was a very clear, starry night, got incredible reception and stations from cities a hundred miles away. Having said that, I couldn't find any good songs* as I drove, and it was about ten minutes of searching through stations before I landed on "Amanda" by Boston, the first truly great song of the evening. I sang along, and found several more great songs before I got home, arriving closer to four than to three in the morning.
And I remembered, as I neared home, that I hadn't done all of my push-ups--that I still had a hundred more to do, and there was no chance I'd be awake long enough to do a hundred. To my surprise, when I got home, the living room had been decorated for my nephew's fourth birthday, and the floor had been covered in balloons.
So, I couldn't really do push-ups if I wanted to. Except that I kind of needed to do them, even if I was the only person who cared if I did or not. So I got up on the couch, and stuck my arms in a small space between balloons, and leaned over and did my push-ups that way. And I made it through them, all in one sitting (or leaning, in this case). I've never done a hundred push-ups in a row before, and probably couldn't replicate that right now if I tried (which I most certainly will not, good sir!).
Sit-ups Today: 100 (these were slow and boring, at the end of the night, with no music or video to distract me. Often, I'll take my laptop upstairs and set it next to the mattress on the floor where I stick my feet to do sit-ups, and it gives me something to focus on while I do it. I recommend you do the same . . . not that you need it--you're looking better than ever. How do you manage it?)
Sit-ups In June: 1738
So, I'm at the cabin again, and even though you deserve it so much more than I do, I was so happy to be back here, what, three days since I last was. It's pre-flowers, but seems like this has to be the most beautiful time of the year up here. I dunno, maybe I'll feel differently when there are a million yellow flowers in July, or a dozen shades of orange in October. Or white, as far as the eye can see, in January.
When I arrived, I saw something in the big trap immediately. But it wasn't my friend the badger, or the woodchuck my niece let go free--it was a skunk. I didn't dare get close, even to take a picture, because if it sprays, it'll smell like that throughout the cabin, for days certainly, maybe for weeks. And it's not like that would do anything about the skunk, like my brother's idea of shooting it would** (he also suggested dragging the cage into the sunlight, but that requires getting close enough to the cage that it might spray anyway).
It's so hot back home that it's actually pretty warm here. I opened the windows during the night for the first time this year--the night was oddly silent, since you can usually hear frogs or birds or crickets or CHUDs, and I can't really explain why--and never even considered building a fire (not that you're supposed to).
And the gnats, which had been a Biblical plague last week, had calmed way down this trip. There were still plenty buzzing around, but not swarms of them, and it was a calm, warm, lovely end of the day.
Like one of the young people I seem to have such disdain for, I was standing among the majesty of nature and the beauty of the wilderness, staring down at my phone. I could've stayed there for an hour, texting my brother, reading Facebook posts, looking at Instagram. In the distance, across the lake, I heard a strange horn-like sound. When it came again, I recognized it as the trumpeting of an elk. I asked my brother if deer also trumpet, and he said that was an elk thing. It did it, off and on, another half dozen times while I stood there. The sound was alien and super creepy, but hey, I've been told that I am too.
Push-ups Today: 50
Push-ups In June: 1882
I don't know how much more of all this I'm going to take, since every year, as Scrooge said, I find myself another year older and not an hour richer. But ah well. I enjoy my stories and podcasting, and really, you've got to find something to live for, otherwise why not catch up on your sleep?
Words Today: 425
Words In June: 12,095
*Well, technically, they have to be "great" songs, not just good, so that's harder.
**I remember one summer when we were still working on my dad's house, we caught a skunk--probably in the same trap--and my brother came up with this idea that, instead of shooting the skunk, we drown it instead (he had had a bad experience shooting the animals). So we covered the trap with an old blanket, and the two of us gently--gently!--lifted the trap and then lowered it into the cows' watering trough. It drowned the skunk, certainly, but while it was my job to take the dead animal to the back of our property and throw it over the fence (there were no neighbors in that direction--literally, for twenty miles or more), it was my brother's job to empty out the trough because soaking a skunk there made the water undrinkable.
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