Into a dancer you have grown
From a seed somebody else has sown;
Go on ahead and throw some seeds of your own
And somewhere between the time you arrive
And the time you go
May lie a reason you were alive,
But you'll never know.
~ Jackson Browne, "For a Dancer," Late for the Sky
For weeks I've been hauling around a bag of "seeding soil" and some grass seed, intending to fill in those tracks in the yard where the water company buried its lines. The deal was, the water company would roll and seed where they installed the mains, but the branch line off to my house was my own responsibility. Well, they rolled the main line - although there's still a mound that I chip away at periodically, on the hill slope, because it's too steep for the lawnmower - but I never saw any evidence that they seeded.
Perhaps, I thought, I was supposed to WATER the grass seeds. Well, I didn't. Nor did I spread the specially formulated topsoil and All-Purpose Sports Turf seed I bought. <forgives self>
So today, I was working from home, when I heard this unholy racket out in the yard. Thinking it was some asshole on a four-wheeler out joyriding, I ran to the window - tore open the shutters and threw up - no, no, that's another story. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but Fosterburg Water and their big green John Deere!
I take it they've seeded my yard. I started to go out and offer them cold drinks (98 degrees today), but realized I was in my jammies so I just skulked around inside the house.
Suppose I'll have to water ...
***
In other news, I've really gone off the deep end. Orange Cat hasn't showed up at all in the past 24 hours, although there's a dead mouse in the driveway so I'm sure he's around somewhere. Lately, in this heat, he's been staying indoors all day and out cattin' around all night, but today he's keeping a low profile.
He's such a friendly cat that I often wonder if he's hitting up all the creatures (human, goat, llama, etc.) in his 25-sq-mile territory that might offer him food, whether voluntarily or not. Suddenly, today I wondered if he's lounging around inside someone else's house, enjoying their air conditioning.
AND I GOT JEALOUS.
Crazy Lady Goes On Jealous Rampage, Kills Goat, Cat, Self
"He's not your cat!" she sobbed, incoherently. "Okay, he's not really MY cat either, but if I can't get woken up at 2 a.m. with a paw in my mouth, NOBODY can!"
... Wait. This is another one of those transference things, isn't it? I can't deal with missing Dale, so I freak out over Zissou (whose lifestyle is pretty similar to Dale's, when you think about it).
Someone at work needs a video that I thought I might have archived. Did a search on my hard drive, and found a bunch of videos I'd taken while learning to use the Sony Handycam. Since there was a folder labeled "Nursing Home," I was hoping I might have video of Dale, talking ... but the closest I came was Orange Cat, who sauntered out of view as soon as he realized I was looking at him.
I don't remember losing track of you -
You were always dancing in and out of view;
I must have thought you'd always be around,
Always keeping things real by playing the clown -
Now you're nowhere to be found.
~ "For a Dancer," above
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