summer_jackel

Overly sugary energy drinks have become a mainstay of my time on the bike trainer; I find them somewhat wretched, but I crave them while I pedal. Well, I decided to try a new Rockstar flavor, and apparently didn't engage my eyeballs very well, because it wasn't until just now that I noticed it was GRAPE. Yeah guys, it's true, I actually spent money on Rockstar's version of grape soda. There's no excuse; I was emotionally calm and completely sober when I performed this act.

It tastes like some kind of Lovecraftian monster strangled to death in the Berkeley pit and left to putrify in a glass jar for a couple of weeks in August. With caffeine.

For the love of dog, save yourselves, don't ever try this stuff. I'm going to drink it anyway. That'll teach me.

It's 11:59 on Sunday. I've been pedaling for an hour and a half, and it is raining for the first time this season. I always take this as something of a personal holiday, suddenly emotional things are hurting less than they have in 4-5 years, and I'm pretty happy. Miz Kaya, the Best Parrot in the World, is begging me for another spray-bottle bath, but her feathers are still soaked through from the last one.

The collie floats up when I take a break, and I pet him and feel something odd. Bliss Like Chaos, can you explain why you are wearing Mardi Gras beads this morning? There was a party that good last night and you didn't tell me?

The cat is humping my bathrobe. No need to say which one if you are familiar with my cats. That one. With all the spots. He's not just casually doing this, either; no, there's some concentration going on, and he's been at it for about a minute and a half. I didn't know that a gelded cat could get an erection. At least he doesn't spray. Geez, man, not on my bathrobe, ok? Can't you get a room or something?

And then I think, wait, who am I to judge my kitty's expression of his unique gender and sexuality? (And he expresses it, let me tell you). Maybe I should get my noisy bike trainer at 7:00 at night out of the bedroom and give him some privacy. Wait, though, it's still my bathrobe, I get a say.

Now he fell asleep on it. Aww, kitty.

*

Speaking of pedaling trainer at night, wow, I forgot the effects of being rested in the sense of bike training. This has been a year of heavy emotional stuff...Kestrel and Lucy moved out a little over a year ago now, Kestrel and I called it off for good only in May...and the most useful method I've found of working through it is riding the hell out of my bike, mostly on the trainer. It's actually been really great fun and I feel wonderful, but the result is that I put in as much time and intensity as amateur racers. (I'd be an awful racer, though...lack of balance and handling skills would kill me. MTB may actually suit me more).

So when I haven't ridden for a few days...and there were only 2 major rides in the last 2 weeks...I get so rediculously full of energy that I can't sit still. I was just agro all day today, so I got home and hopped on a bike, and am now much happier at hour 3.5. Riding is a scream, and I have been pounding at the trainer for a good three hours with no sign of being tired. I'm peaked! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

*

Coba is curled up next to Jezebel's ruff. The housefox is using the wolf's mane as a pillow. It's true. They can't be photographed because they are asleep behind my bedroom door, and moving that would wake them up, but oh awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

I'm really happy to see that Jez is accomodating so well to the collie pack. For a couple weeks after Pryderi's death, she spent a lot of time in her kennel, in a surly mood and generally avoiding us. She's the last of my wolf pack, and has never been without another of her kind, but she seems to be really comfortable playing and snuggling with these colliepupthings now. I'm glad; I want her age to be happy.

*

Listening to a whole lot of Tori Amos right now. What weird and awesome music. Got to make sure I don't blare it at my neighbors at 10 p.m, as my sense of musical volume does weird things when I pedal. Although blaring Tori Amos at my neighbors (hey, they play country loud...) is kind of conceptually funny.

*

That cat is still sleeping on my bathrobe. His bathrobe? Well, at least until I wash it. Nice that he doesn't want my underwear like the puppies do.

I. My dogs are weird.

I usually lock Jez in the kennel at night, but I am getting a little more lax about Jez in general. At 10 (Jezebel is 10? Dear gods, when did that happen?) Miz Wolfie has slowed way down. When they were young, I was always aware that my pack could probably get out of the yard in about two minutes if they were motivated, for instance by the appearance of a dog they didn't like and might therefore want to eat, and supervised them accordingly. Still, when I woke up to the slightly concerned realization that I'd left her loose for the night, it was a far cry from the oh shit panic that same moment might have inspired when I was 25.

This morning, I was just mildly relieved to note Jez still asleep in her doghouse and all of my chickens yet living and unmolested. On closer inspection, the only thing out of place was an almost-empty bottle of kennel disinfectant in the doghouse with her. Thankfully unchewed, although I'm sure that she planned on it until she stopped to smell the thing. Dude, Jez, of all the forbidden items in the whole place that you could have appropriated for your illicit destructive pleasure, you chose the soap?

I should be grateful.

( My dogs' friends are weird )

BIKES
...as I hop on the trainer for a couple hours. It's funny, but riding a bike does stuff to me. Makes me fitter and prettier, obviously, and is a great anti-depressant, which explains not so much why I pedal like I do, but how much. The more subtle, but pervasive, effect is that I feel normal-to-tired when I have ridden recently, but give me a few days off and suddenly I am as full of spazz and boundless energy as my conure when he hasn't been let out of his cage for too long. Sometimes it takes me a moment to remember why I'm behaving wierdly, eg. 'Why am I so conurey at the end of a work day? Oh yeah, I'm all rested. Go spin for an hour so ya sleep tonight, Jackel.'

It's a shame my balance and handling will never be what I'd need to maneuver in a race or century ride, because I'm getting strong. Anyone local need a tandem stoker? :P I took an actual road ride (gasp) this weekend, and I was tearin' it up, although because apparently Kestrel scavenged the magnet off my front wheel, disabling my bike computer, I have no idea how fast I was actually going. Frustrated kvetch gotta get a new one now, PITA. It felt fast, anyway. Grumble.

Incidentally, that ride was to Armstrong Redwoods SP. What a sweet ride. Nice enough roads, few/slow cars, old growth redwood trees, good distance from home. In the winter, when there are fewer tourists, it will be even nicer.

BIRDS
So some friends of mine are fostering a Nanday conure. I am so going over there to love on her and steal her and make her my very own NOT steal her because not only am I already one parrot over my ideal capacity, I have heard a Nanday vocalize. Thankfully, I still have my hearing after this experience. Still, Nandays are up there on my list of top four birds I love but can never, ever keep. The others, for the curious, are the sun conure, lovebird (I vacillate as to preferred species between black-masked and lutino peachfaced)) and B&G Macaw. All would make fantastic pets for deaf people. (I have sometimes wondered if parrots are statistically more popular pets among the deaf; it would make so much sense).

Going even farther afield, birds that are on the list of parrots I would love and can realistically see myself keeping, but almost certainly won't unless my situation were to change drastically, are white-eared and painted conures, Princess of Wales parakeet and the big one, African grey. I yearn for a grey and really love their neurotic little personalities, and I'm just arrogant enough to think I could do an adequate job of keeping one. I don't have the space, and I think it would decrease the quality and amount of time I could spend with other pets, so this will not happen.

On the other hand, I do think I need another laying hen; I am supplying enough eggs to friends to justify her. I may raise a couple of chicks this year after all.

MAPLE TREES
Only one certain loss so far, a cutting that was in one of my worst rockwool cubes. The cube split, and I think that exposed the wounded end of the cutting to air, dooming it. So, my fault. The other rockwool cuttings, those in perlite and the 3 in willow water have not wilted at all. Both potato grafts are still alive but look shocky and wilted; sadly, I give them a slim chance of rooting.

HOUSEFOX
Shameless little cur. I tossed my undies in the hamper---the one with the smaller slats that I hoped would deter dainty and unerringly accurate little muzzles, dammit!---and no less than a minute later emerged from my bedroom to see Coba trotting off with them. He dropped them immediately, and turned tail for the doggie door as quickly as decorum would allow. If I could have got that second on film, it would have made a hilarious LOLdog; fluffy little sheltie pup wearing an incredibly guilty look of GUILT on his face (the blue eyes are especially expressive on this) and a black thong in his mouth. Yeah, Coba. I saw you. Drop it, furball.