The Ninth Strange Day

“And I remember thinking ‘Hey, if we’re going to keep going with these shenanigans, can I at least put on some underpants?’”

I’m a registered voter. I’m registered as a member of the Green party. Can I still vote in the Primary election?

It’s 9am and I just got to work and boy are my feet tired. For most people, that’s normal. I’m not most people and I’m not normal. “Normal” for me is 8am. 8:30 at the latest.

We left early today and we caught the earlier bus. Which ended up being sort of pointless because the bus made it as far as the next stop and sat there for somewhere between ten and fifteen minutes, waiting for the new driver. While I’m thrilled that the MTA is so casual with their employees that they can enjoy the freedom to show up at their leisure, a lot of people on the bus don’t have this flexibility. Some people have connections to make. Others have to be at work before a certain time.

Because the bus sat for so long I missed the train I normally catch.

Because I missed the train I normally catch, I got the train that got stuck at Gilroy Road when the Southbound train broke down, right where the track splits.

Remember all that fuss about “double tracking to improve the ride”? Yeah, they double-tracked it all the way up to Gilroy. Then it’s back to a single track until just before Hunt Valley Town Centre.

This wouldn’t have been so bad if they’d told us when it happened. As it was, we sat there for twenty minutes with no word from the driver and no way off the train. After that, we walked.

Fortunately I only had to walk to the next stop, then it was my usual walk from there to my office. I feel bad for the people who still had to go all the way to HVTC. Especially the ones going up there to meet a connecting bus.

Thursday I was busy at work and left late and he had practice with his band, so he just went home ahead of me. He was leaving just as I was getting home (we passed on the street). Not long after we parted ways, Kate the stray came tearing around the corner, yelling her head off. She saw me, stopped short, and started jumping and shouting.

The short walk back to the house she was running ahead of me and running back and chattering the whole time. Grey was sitting on the sidwalk looking a little angsty.

Kitti had come home, changed, and was heading back out… but he hadn’t fed the cats. Kate was chasing him down, probably shouting “Mister! Hey, mister! You forgot to feed us!”

She was very relieved when I did it, but how damn cute is that?!

Tuesday, 11 September, Kitti and I are going to see Feist at Ram’s Head. In October, Mim and I are going to see Loreena McKennitt (it’ll be a late birthday present for her). Also in October, we’re going to try to see Morrissey again (and if he cancells this time, tears and possibly blood will be shed).

We’re also making vague plans about going to Cardiff and Boston. Well, Boston and Cardiff. Boston sometime in the autumn and Cardiff sometime in early 2008. Early 2008 because hopefully by spring 2008 we’ll have a dog. If we’re really lucky, a Welsh terrier (no, we’re not going to Wales just to get a dog. We’re going to Wales just to get our Whoniverse geek on).

Yes, I know. We should adopt a shelter dog.

And so yesterday Mim’s car broke down. The clutch lost pressure and slammed flat to the floor of the car. Fortunately she was on a residential street with available parking and she was able to pull over safely. It also doesn’t sound like it’ll be a horrible repair. Hydraulics mumble mumble something clutch just isn’t getting pushed back up yadda. I wasn’t there and it’s 9 in the morning and I’m not really awake enough to be clearer about it, but I understood it last night when she was telling me.

Anyhow, long story short, it could have been a lot worse, and a friend of hers has offered to take us to the grocery store today and if there is any justice in the world, Mim will only have to miss a day, maybe a day and a half of work because of the car.

Although if there was ever a sign that it was time to buy a new one, this might just be it. Hint-hint.

C’mon, Mim! I’ll test drive with ya!

Every day on the way to work I like to look for deer and woodchucks. Sometimes I see rabbits, but the deer and the ‘chucks are more familiar with the train and will just freeze and watch it go past and the most I see of the rabbits is a rustle as they disappear. I saw a fox once, and I’ve seen turkey vultures hanging around, and today I saw seven Canadian geese sitting at the Southbound light rail stop. Hope they have transit passes.

I saw a fox on the way home. A City Fox. I’ve seen it before. It lives near the North Avenue stop.

One time one of my coworkers found a baby bunny in the parking lot. It was TINY. About the size of a baseball, and he looked really angry. Probably because everyone was oohing and fussing over him. Me being the fearless one, I picked him up and gave him a little cuddle.

Another time at work we had a bat trapped in the conference room. A wee brown bat who was utterly freaked out and miserably unhappy. He was finally caught and I was the one who ended up taking him outside to let him go.

When I was much younger, an owl nearly vomited mouse-bits on me.

There was also a time when we had a sparrow hawk on our back porch, and my Nana had a bird nest in the awning over her back door.

Ducks and pigeons will eat from my hand.

And then, tonight, we had a mouse in the toilet.

Our shower is in the basement. Kitti went down to … have a shower, obviously. He lifted the lid of the toilet to empty out his electric razor and there, paddling away, was a mouse. A small, brown, terribly distressed mouse.

Kitti calmly closed the lid, came back up the stairs, and said “I may be on drugs, but I believe there’s a mouse swimming in our toilet.”

We went back downstairs and he lifted the lid, and paddling around in the bowl was this small, brown mouse. He’d sink, little bubbles coming from his nose, then he’d struggle back up. He kept doing that, desperately trying to find something to hold on to. Kitti found a small plastic container that I’d had hermit crabs in. I got him into the box, put the lid on it, and emptied out the rest of the water through the vent holes in the lid.

Everything they say about “You look like a drowned rat” is true. This poor little guy was shivery and panting and kept closing his eyes, then looking around again because he was wet and cold and terrified. Interesting to note: mice (or rats, or whatever he was) have eyelashes. Totally “awww” worthy.

Me being me, I put a wad of paper towels in the container with him and took him out to the back yard. I opened the lid and turned the box sideways, and gave him a handful of birdseed.

Now he’s outside, with soft paper to turn into bedding if he wants, a little shelter, and some food.

The cats remain unaffected.