This day has been a mix of relaxing and depressing. It
was relaxing having time to cook and kick back and watch shows on Prime. The
morning included the usual coffee and semi-usual soup making. The snow didn’t accumulate,
but it blew around in the air for a good chunk of the morning. Cold and blowy
is the perfect excuse for yard work to not happen. Even when it got sunny in the
afternoon, it was still cold.
The depressing part was how fast the day went by. One
minute it was 8am, in what felt like barely two minutes later it was 11:30, and
in another blink it was 3:30pm, then 7:30. Why do most work days not blow by like
this?
Today’s feature presentations kicked off at coffee time with season three of “Secret Diary of a Call Girl” on Prime, starring Billie Piper, who played
companion Rose Tyler in many seasons of Doctor Who. There is even an episode of
“Call Girl” with Matt Smith, the Eleventh Doctor, as a store clerk. The series is
based on a true story and is quite an education in London escort life.
Winston, BungaLowell's Head of Security. |
There was late morning excitement in the yard when
Winston went out to do his business. As BungaLowell’s Head of Security, he routinely checks the yard perimeter, sniffing
and peeing. Sometimes there is a canine conversational exchange with Harley next
door or the two dogs in the yard behind ours. When he wants to come inside, he
stands at the gate and barks, and in perfect Pavlovian fashion, I trot outside
to open the gate and let him in as quickly as possible to minimize the human neighbor
annoyance factor. Today he was barking more and different than usual and when I
went outside, he raced to the back of the yard behind the shed like he was
chasing something. He’s already met up with a skunk, and the other night, chased
Chuck, the resident ground hog/woodchuck/whatever it is under the deck on the
other side of the house.
Today, behind the shed, Winston was being glared at menacingly
by a large and fluffy black cat atop the fence. The cat looked at me with scary
eyes that seemed to glow with the fires of hell, then opened its mouth and let forth a
hiss that displayed a vividly red pointy tongue. I had an image of that thing
flinging itself at me and tearing my throat open. No kidding, it was acting like something
straight out of a horror movie. I yelled to Winston to come inside and we both ran
from the fence sitting demon-cat. Winston got a “good boy” cookie and
commendation for his bravery with the hell-cat once we were back inside.
After the hell-cat encounter, the day seemed a bit
dull. There were dishes to wash from the morning cooking escapades, online Scrabble games, and more shows to see. Supper was leftover
quiche pulled from the freezer, with a salad and white wine, because it’s
Saturday night fancy here at the BungaLowell.
The early evening feature was “The Man
Who Fell to Earth” on Prime. How on Earth did I not see this when it first came
out, or in any of the many decades since? Oh, David Bowie. Sigh. Then, it might be the Korean movie “Parasite,” which was recommended to me months ago. Or maybe the book I started last weekend and haven't touched since. Who knows. If the times passes like it has all day, it'll be midnight in about two seconds and too late for anything.
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