Oct
10
October 10, 2006
Yesterday I was trying to think of somewhere to go with Riley that would allow us to enjoy the amazing last-gasp fall weather we’re having, and it was with a guilty, guilty heart that I turned into Marymoor and headed to the off-leash dog area. Who goes to the off-leash dog park and leaves their dog, who by the way goes batshit insane with joy for the dog park, at home?
Well, I do, goddammit, because she wasn’t with me and yes I could have driven home and picked her up but I didn’t. Okay? I didn’t.
(Now I’m doubly going to DIE IN A FIRE for BEING A SLUT! Also Dog Services is going to take my dog away!)
We were trundling along, pointing at dogs (“Da! Da!”), and I got to one end of the off-leash area where a path continues past a fence and into the woods. JB and I have never gone this way, because you’re required to put dogs back on leash to walk there, and the whole point of the off-leash area…so anyway, I decided to see where it went. Being as how I didn’t have a dog with me. (Guilt!)
The path wound through the trees and sunlight dappled the ground. Eventually we moved onto a raised wooden walkway upon which Riley’s stroller wheels made a pleasing ba-bump ba-bump sound that reminded me of being a child myself and riding a Big Wheel on my grandparents’ deck in Michigan. And all of a sudden, the path opened up to the edge of Lake Sammamish, which glittered blue and cool and smooth. Dragonflies darted all around us and Riley said “Teh. Teh.”
We walked the rest of the trail which led through the marsh, through the forest edge, and back into the meadows that opened into the off-leash area. It was such a surprise, to experience so much beauty in an everyday sort of outing. I was reminded of how lucky we are to live here, how even in the city and suburbs the natural world always shines through.
Maybe I’ll go back on Friday, and this time I’ll bring Dog.
:::
Okay, there’s something I just have to say. There’s a certain relationship I think that we have, you and I. It’s the kind of relationship where I can tell you things, and you tell me things, and maybe we agree and maybe we don’t. But the thing is: it’s honest, right? As much as it can be, anyway? So it hurts me, it hurts me deeply to know that nobody, not one of you…
Oh, this is so painful. I don’t know if I can go on. Okay, deep breath.
WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME ABOUT MEERKAT MANOR??
Seriously, people. There’s a whole show about meerkats, and it’s a drama? Hello, clearly something you should have shared before now. Honestly, I don’t know if I can forgive you.
If LIKE ME you had no idea this mesmerizing show existed – well, forget that Project Runway business all the kids are excited about, Meerkat Manor’s where it’s at. Will they ever find Shakespeare? Will Daisy be kicked out of the group? Will Flower spawn, like, four hundred more pups? Will the Commandoes attack the Whiskers? How about Youssarian, is he ever going to get some hot meerkat action?
It is, no shit, a soap opera starring meerkats. Actual meerkats. In the Kalahari. You should check it out: Animal Planet, Fridays.
And if you know about a sitcom featuring platypuses or something, you better kick down.
Oct
9
October 9, 2006
JB wasn’t particularly excited by the prospect of visiting a pumpkin farm this weekend. “We can get pumpkins at QFC,” he said. “If you want a photo, we can just put Riley in front of the produce section.”
“You are the Grinch of Halloween,” I told him. “Come on, this farm has hay rides.”
They also had tractor rides.
And really big pumpkins.
Really, really big pumpkins.
Seriously fucking big-ass pumpkins.
Which we liberated with clippers.
So. Many. Pumpkins!
But best of all, this farm also had – oh, you’d better sit down for this one –
A NO-SHIT, 100% REAL, ACTUAL WORKING TREBUCHET.
Which they used to launch a watermelon (why a watermelon and not a pumpkin, I do not know) about a football field’s length.
And solicited the day’s first non-Maddox-Jolie/I-will-burn-you-with-my-eye-lasers expression from Riley. (“HOLY CRAP!”)
I can’t adequately describe the sheer awesomeness a trebuchet adds to a pumpkin farm. In fact, I think every wholesome family activity that you secretly (or in JB’s case, not-so-secretly) think is going to be lame should include a trebuchet. Easter egg hunt? Trebuchet. Playgroup get-together? Trebuchet. Sunday morning church outing? Fucking TREBUCHET, man (I can even think of a new hymn for the occasion, it’s called “Jesus, Pull Your Trebuchet of Faith For Me”).
Also, had I known about the trebuchet selling point, I seriously would not have bothered with that shit about hay rides.
-
My product review site:
[