Humdrum
It's a lovely morning here in Olympia. Bumblebees are lazily pollinating the flowers of a plant called Hairy Cat's Ear, named for its fuzzy leaves, that has established quite an impressive colony in our front lawn. The ears of the real hairy cat that lives in this house are pressed back against her head as she naps on the dining room chair, vaguely listening for the opossums that live underneath our house. No, really. There really are opossums that live underneath our house. I saw one yesterday, poking its pointy snout out from an elevated, mysterious shelf in our basement dungeon.
Across the street, the young maple saplings planted along the edge of the field murmur in the cool breeze. The golden grass tickles my feet as I take a few steps to reach the shade of a maple, then sit down. The breeze feels pleasantly refreshing after the three days of inferno we've just experienced. On Saturday, the mercury broke 100 degrees F in some parts of this town. Fortunately, I spent most of the day floating down the Deschutes river in an inner tube, attempting to counter the sizzling heat. It worked. The river's slow steady chill worked into my body and left me shivering in spite of the heat (until I got out of the water, of course).
Last week we moved some rather pathetic looking houseplants from the living room to the front lawn, where they will remain until the temperature drops too steeply. Among them are two different species of strangler fig and several palm-like plants, all tropical natives. In our kitchen we have a Monstera (a large, gangly rainforest vine) growing in a pot, and a colossal jade plant which must be over fifty years old. There are spider plants of various shapes and sizes scattered here and there among the dusty recesses of our living room, and a few strange plants I don't recognize. There's good houseplant diversity here.
My summer class in grass identification and ecology starts today at six pm. I feel indifferent. I think it will be fun once it gets started but I don't know what to expect. I had thought to work again in the prairies this summer, continuing the process of creating an exhaustive list of plants there, but that plan seems to have fallen through. My former advisor is unwilling to discuss future work until Fall quarter. She can be rather difficult at times. Whatever. I will find some other way to keep myself occupied.
I still haven't heard pip nor squeak from Canon regarding my camera. Hopefully soon it will return to me. The phenomenal weather has presented many fantastic photographic opportunities and I am getting antsy. But now it is time to go shopping, and so I bid you adieu.
Across the street, the young maple saplings planted along the edge of the field murmur in the cool breeze. The golden grass tickles my feet as I take a few steps to reach the shade of a maple, then sit down. The breeze feels pleasantly refreshing after the three days of inferno we've just experienced. On Saturday, the mercury broke 100 degrees F in some parts of this town. Fortunately, I spent most of the day floating down the Deschutes river in an inner tube, attempting to counter the sizzling heat. It worked. The river's slow steady chill worked into my body and left me shivering in spite of the heat (until I got out of the water, of course).
Last week we moved some rather pathetic looking houseplants from the living room to the front lawn, where they will remain until the temperature drops too steeply. Among them are two different species of strangler fig and several palm-like plants, all tropical natives. In our kitchen we have a Monstera (a large, gangly rainforest vine) growing in a pot, and a colossal jade plant which must be over fifty years old. There are spider plants of various shapes and sizes scattered here and there among the dusty recesses of our living room, and a few strange plants I don't recognize. There's good houseplant diversity here.
My summer class in grass identification and ecology starts today at six pm. I feel indifferent. I think it will be fun once it gets started but I don't know what to expect. I had thought to work again in the prairies this summer, continuing the process of creating an exhaustive list of plants there, but that plan seems to have fallen through. My former advisor is unwilling to discuss future work until Fall quarter. She can be rather difficult at times. Whatever. I will find some other way to keep myself occupied.
I still haven't heard pip nor squeak from Canon regarding my camera. Hopefully soon it will return to me. The phenomenal weather has presented many fantastic photographic opportunities and I am getting antsy. But now it is time to go shopping, and so I bid you adieu.
posted by cody @ 12:49 PM
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