So today was Bus Day. My daughter left the house at 4:45 a.m. for her job at the Nicollet Mall Farmer's Market. I seem to hear everything in the night these days and not only did I hear her shut the doors and drive off but I also heard the four cats she disturbed on her way. The black one from our not-so-friendly neighbors across the street sleeps on or under our porch. I don't think it likes our neighbors either because it's always over at our place. They never bring him in. Which is fine, until he bawls like a newborn calf and it's 4:45 in the morning.
I remember my mom and dad craving sleep when they were the age I am now. I used to think they were a little obsessive. As preteens fending for ourselves, my brother and I learned to tiptoe around the house in the mornings, never quite shutting the cupboard doors after getting our cereal, learning to watch Saturday morning shows on mute, like those Anoka guys who have garage parties and keep the Nascar on mute in the background.
Well now I understand my parents' sleep needs. If you asked me anytime today what I'd like to do for fun tonight I'm sure I would tell you, Go to Bed Early, and I wouldn't mean for the sex.
So I was all set for the bus: mug of tea, extra shoes and rain jacket in big bus bag, umbrella. Except I forgot to check for change so it wasn't until I had walked the six blocks in the rain that I found my pocketbook empty. Forgot I had given the kiddos all my money for Chipotle last night.
I had twelve minutes to walk back--in the rain--and get some change and still make the last rush hour bus. I spilled my tea on the front of my shirt on the way back and my walking shoes started to make that squishing sound from all the rain.
No change in the house. None to be found except for $1.89 in pennies. The rush bus is $2.00. I called my husband and asked him if he knew of any money stashes in the house. He offered to drive back through the rain-induced freeway traffic and get me. I declined.
Then I called him back and said yes.
On the ride to work my husband told me about seeing a squirrel fall and slip off our porch roof this morning, landing on its backside in the wet flower beds. Said he'd never seen a squirrel lose its footing like that.
Me and that squirrel. We just need to take it easy on these wet, trying days.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
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3 comments:
The rush bus? From out in the greater Anoka area? the sample route for the future rail line? (The Anoka reference made me think of this, of course.)
My sister rides in from Elk River or sometimes from another fairly close station.
A squirrel slipping? It's clear that things like that befall animals, but it's stunning to spot it happening. I don't know why. It just seems that beings gifted with instinct should have more grace than us.
-cK
As Shmooie would say, "oh MAN!" Sorry the transportation gods were not smiling on you. Hope it goes better next time.
cK: The rush bus I mean is the last one to come every 10 minutes; after that it comes along Randolph Ave, every 20 mins. If I lived in Elk River or the GAA I would be lobbying for those new rail lines! Is this the same sister Elbee says was hit on by Big Norm Coleman?
Sometimes I lie in bed Sunday mornings and watch the squirrels skitter along our telephone lines and think about them falling and hanging on by their scratchy little paws. But they've never done that trapeze fall. . .
J.--I got 10 hours of sleep last night and feel all the smiles upon me today!
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