6/22
Even though I stayed up really late last night, I woke before my alarm this morning, and though I didn't want to get out of bed, I remembered that I had all the audio edited for my book "Hatchling," but had never uploaded it. So, I thought I'd at least start the process. By the time my alarm went off, I had three chapters uploaded--three acceptable chapters, I mean, after uploading approximately fifteen of them. When I go to the cabin this afternoon, I'll maybe open up all my files and increase the volume on every one, which will help (but surely a few will still fail their QC and I'll have to make them even louder).
To my horror, even though today is the second-longest day of the year, it started getting dark around seven o'clock. Not sure what's up with that (last night, it was about 9:04 or so). Somehow, it was in the fifties when I drove up to the dam and did my run, and there were a bunch of people on the lake, fishing and hanging out with their kids/grandkids. Even so, I did better running the dam this time than the last few, so I'm either getting stronger, or I'm further away from the summer cold thing I had in May.* I also did some jump-roping when I got home, but I did it on gravel, and that kept jamming up the works. In a perfect world (not even a perfect one, just a slightly better one), I'd exercise every time I came here, to the point where in October or November, I'd have seen a real improvement in my physique).
I watched GILDA, with Rita Hayworth and Glenn Ford. It was really amazingly photographed, and Hayworth is like watching the greatest special effect ever created . . . but I can't really say I understood what was going on throughout, and was left absolutely dissatisfied in the end (Gilda and Johnny, the main characters, are in love, but seem to genuinely hate each other, to the point where Johnny says, "Where could he find another woman like you? Anywhere. There's more women in the world than anything else, I'm told. Except maybe insects." I'm paraphrasing, but he says it with such utter contempt that I believe he believes it. Heck, the movie makes us believe it too).
Writing or Exercise: Exercise
6/23
A new day. The weather is absolutely perfect, with a constant cool breeze and enough sunlight to fry Lilith the Daughter of Dracula.
I haven't seen a single woodchuck this visit, whereas they were everywhere last week, crawling on the deck, in the grass, pooping and peeing everywhere, and making noises under the stairs. There were three ground squirrels in the traps my brother had set, one dead and two alive. I released the live ones--we don't really have a beef with them like we do with the rockchucks, that burrow and gnaw and defecate around the cabin like it's Cinco de Mayo--but it would've been nice to catch a badger. The weeds have sprouted up so high in the past two weeks that you couldn't see them scurrying around if they were out there.
There was a neat phenomenon as it rained a couple of times when the sun was still shining brightly (the devil's wife had pushed him too far, apparently), even though this is the Rockies and not the Tropics. I went out on the deck and watched it, and wished someone else could see it too. But hey, nobody else was around . . . otherwise, I'd have put on pants at some point.
I recorded a story and did an episode about it, watched about half of a movie, read the first two chapters of a book, and then figured it was time to pack up and leave (the rain made it get dark early, though not as early as yesterday, when there was no rain, but it was still dark at seven o'clock [??]). I have to drive out of the valley, then through the canyon to the town below before I get cellphone service, and when I do, I usually pull over to read the texts my Cousin Ryan has sent me (last week, it was about Tim Sale dying--Ryan is usually the dude to tell me who's died). Because of the semi-darkness, the deer were out in full on the side of the road, and that always freaks me out (at least they weren't CROSSING the road, though, which is way worse), but I managed to record another podcast anyway.
All in all, not a bad day at the cabin.
*It was one of those things where my sense of smell absolutely disappeared for a couple of days, and only recently has returned (although my sense of taste was never diminished).
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