804 Walks, Hawks, Looks, and Locks

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

I foolishly though it would be cooler in the woods for our walk last evening. It wasn't. It was merely more humid. The sweat poured off us. I was surprised and grateful that I didn't poop out on the steep parts. We got back to the cars at 8 pm, and the temperature was 96 then.

I stopped at the grocery store on my way home, and when I came out, my glasses steamed up so badly I couldn't see to cross the parking lot. I haven't experienced that since St. Louis, when both the temperature and humidity were 100, and water would condense on your whole body when you walked out of air conditioning.

Speaking of which, it's 9 pm and 88 degrees right here in my den, and the attic fan and the (inadequate, semi-broken) air conditioner have been running steadily. We, here, are not used to this, folks.

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I was awakened at 8 this morning by screaming in the woods.

I open the bathroom window before I go to bed, and the past few mornings I've been jolted awake by "Kweeeeeeeeeuh! Kweeeeeeeeeuh! Kweeeeeeeeeuh! ..." I had assumed it was a bird, but last evening on the walk, we had heard a series of loud "hurrugh!" noises that we at first thought was a bird, but by the third one we realized it was a buck, making a warning call. So this morning I realized that the sound I'm hearing is very similar to the sound a fawn in distress will make. And right outside the bathroom window is where a particular doe parks her fawns for the day. I had visions of a fawn tangled in wire or something, out there crying.

I got dressed real fast and went out.

It was hawks. There's a red-tailed couple who nest on the hill, and apparently they're trying to encourage some fledglings to fly and hunt with them. They're yelling back and forth at each other. It seems a bit late in the year, but maybe all the rain we've had has delayed the training. Nice, but disappointing. I kind of liked the idea of rescuing a fawn.

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When I got home last night, I had checked out another online dating site, one I'd just heard of. I found out where all the local men are hiding! On six other sites, I never find more than 5 men in my age group within 50 miles. Last night I found 40 !!! single men within 30 !!! miles who meet my criteria. Incredible! I had to register to look at any profiles, and the site automatically built a profile for me, containing nothing more than my age and location, and I got three hits within the first half hour just on that. (I had a mental image - we used to sit on the deck at Mariner's Harbor and drop bread into the water, and watch the fish feeding frenzy.)

So I spent some time this morning uploading pictures, filling out the profile, and responding to messages. Unfortunately, so far most of my volunteer suitors are too far away, too young, or too old. In my more paranoid moments, I wonder if all these local guys have seen me on the street or something, and they're running away.

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Early this afternoon I left the house for a quick trip to the deli. I took only a little money and the minivan key.

Yup. I locked myself out. (Hey Lucie! It's contagious!) Enough money for an iced coffee and a BLT. A van key that had been removed from the main key ring because of servicing. No open windows. No cell phone, no purse, no nutthin'. And dressed in grungies, no makeup, and probably smelling strongly.

I went to a neighbor's house, and she let me use her phone to call a locksmith, who was unable to come, but told me to call the police. I called the village police, and they told me they couldn't come out of the village, but to try the county police. I called the county police, and they told me that they can break into cars, but they don't break into houses. I called the only other locksmith within 20 miles on this side of the river, and the woman said she'd try to get hold of the technician, he's out on calls, she'll call me back.

So I borrowed a certain item from the neighbor. I'm not going to tell you what it was, or how I used it, or what I used it on, but once I decided where to start, it took me 10 seconds to get into the house. Faster and cheaper than a locksmith.

I gotta buy me a dog. Or fix that little exposure, AFTER I stow a spare key outside the house somewhere. Or both.

I met the neighbor in the street, as she was coming over to tell me that the locksmith wouldn't be able to come today. I returned her item, and taught her how to use it in case she ever had the same problem.