And for our Welcome to Cody Convention gift, we present....

ta-dum ta-dum

a scorpion in your bed!

Right, ok, so I didn't know that Cody even had scorpions. I am informed later that, yes, they do live there, but only down in the rocks, and they're only seen when it's really hot. It wasn't really hot. So one evening I come to my room, and pick up my pj t-shirt; and there, on top of my pants, is this tannish-colored bug. Funny looking bug, I think. Looks sort of like a really tiny scorpion. I lean over to scrutinze it a bit closer and it waggles its scorpion-like tail at me. This, think I, really really looks like a scorpion! Wow! Part of me is impressed that they are so (nearly) instantly recognizable from nothing more than descriptions and the odd picture - since I've never seen one in real life before, living, breathing and preparing to sting. The other part of me wants someone else to come and deal with this. I am NOT squishing it! I don't like squishing bugs (except mosquitoes) anyways; I'm certainly not squishing this. Besides, it might sting me through the kleenex or something.

In my surprise and unguardedness, I mention something, maybe a bit loudly, about this beastie in my bed, so Teri came along and bundled him up in kleenex, zipped him into a plastic baggie and dropped him in a trashcan. At this point, I began wishing I'd thought to take a picture before advertising his presence - but I'm not about to go fishing in the kleenex to haul him out just for a photo op! So no picture. You all can just imagine a very small (less than 1" long), dust-colored bug, with a big, curvy tail.

http://www.sfwa.org/2010/05/tour-of-the-international-space-station/

Whee!

So maybe I posted this quote already, but it's been dear to my heart of late, so I'm posting it again!

"I know you believe you understand what you think I said, but I don't think you realize that what you heard is not what I meant."

I read a nice sounding meditation the other day. It said, sit somewhere quiet and hold up your hands in front of your chest - palms facing each other and a few inches apart. Then, for 5 or 10 minutes, depending on how long you have, imagine that space filled with images of someone you love being happy.

Strange Occurences of the Feathered Kind

Last night, Karen and Heidi and I stayed at Bob Sheaman's house. He was down in Colorado, so we didn't get the pleasure of his company, only that of his house. (Which was very nice, nothing wrong there!)
The strange thing happened after K&H left. I was sitting in the living room waiting for the dishwasher to finish, and I heard in that sort of non-listening way that you do when you're busy with something else, a strange kind of scrabbling and fluttering sound. The door was open (screendoor shut, no holes) and I was busy, so I ignored it. Whatever it was was probably outside anyways. Until I looked up and ... there was a bird standing on the floor looking at me. I couldn't tell what kind it was for sure. It looked rather like a skinny robin with a dark maroon breast instead of a bright orange-red one. I blinked at it, it blinked at me; I looked away to set my laptop down, and it was gone.
hm.

So now we're on a Bird Hunt. But I don't want to panic it and have it flying all over running into things and making a mess, so I am trying to be subtle about my huntage. There are no open windows, no holes in the screen door, no holes anywhere that I can find... On the first few go-rounds, I can't see it anywhere. Mental shake of head, back to living room and computer. I don't know how it got in, so maybe it got itself back out again the same way. But no, a couple minutes later, I hear it and get up and tiptoe into the other room, where it is perched on top of the typewriter.

Retreat to plan attack. Prop screen door open. Shut all other curtains and turn lights off. Sneak back into typewritering room. Bird is sitting there looking at me cheerfully. I look back. It's a standoff for a few minutes, then I take a step closer, and he flies off to sit on the back of the couch. This is better - at least he now has a straight line to the Way Out - if he will take it, and not fly down the hallway away from me. I have to come at him from the direction of the Way Out, and who knows about birds. This may be a bit too bold even for such an unpanicked fellow. But now, all is well. I get about 4 feet from him, and wave my arms encouragingly (encouraging in a sort of muted manner) and off he goes to sit on top of the screen door, and look around. Huh. Outside. How strange. Well, guess I'll see what it's like out here... and he was off. I shut the door in relief.

I still don't know where he got in. And he was astoundingly calm. You'd think he spent all his time hopping around people's houses and sitting on their typewriters.

So I have a question. Can you dream an entire training regimen??
I had forgotten this, but a comment yesterday brought it back to my mind - and I'm sure it must have been a dream, because I do NOT like jogging, and despite the incredible real-feeling-ness of the memory, I can't believe I would have ever willingly started jogging; much less have done it enough to 'remember' getting better over time. Also, there's no timeframe in my life in which this would have fit....
So it had to have been a dream.
What it was, was a dream of running around a track. And doing this enough to get better. I remember the feeling of being able to go farther than I had before. Also I dreamed of being in a race, and doing rather well at it. I even *shudder* was enjoying myself!
Help! Wake me up, quick! Why couldn't I have dreamed about being a jockey or something, I ask you?

For my friends

What Cancer Cannot Do.

It cannot invade the soul
suppress memories
kill friendship
destroy peace
conquer the spirit
shatter hope
cripple love
corrode faith
steal eternal life
or silence courage.