The Vomit Quilt

 

 

Officially it's the Jungle Quilt (because Tiia, the Chick's friend with the new baby, worked at the zoo.) 

 

But here at home it is affectionately known as The Vomit Quilt. 

 

When I first started putting those colors together,  Popeye came in and said, "So whatcha makin'?  A baby quilt?"   

"Yup, a baby quilt." 

"Oh.  That's good." 

"Uh, why is that good?" 

"Because if the kid throws up on it, no one will notice." 

I think he was joking, but I'm really not sure. 

 

Oh well, in the event that Tiia thinks it's hideous, at least Pepper likes it. 

 

And I could always hang it in the dining room - for Popeye to enjoy during meals, right?  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Passing of Shadow.

 

 

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed....

                                                

I made the bed alone today.  I didn't time myself, but it was very efficient.  And no fun at all. 

My best little buddy is no longer here to help.  

Bed making was Shadow's specialty.  He would bat, and pull, and roll until the covers were exactly right.  For him. 

I would tug, and slide, and try to glide the sheets from under him while he grabbed all the covers he could hold and made himself heavy. 

Only when the quilt placement was satisfactory and smooth (as if it were his idea), would he settle back down on top for an after-second-breakfast nap. 

There were many mornings I would fondly recite My Shadow for him. Especially the first two lines.



One night at Turkey Creek, I thought I heard someone on another trail yelling for help. 

"No, I think it's those people who were looking for their dog," said Mike.  Oh yeah, I forgot about them.  

We rode on.  The yelling faded away.  When we came back through, all was quiet.  

It occurred to me then that if you really do ever need help from another human, you should yell if you possibly can.  But not just once or twice.  You should yell until you can't yell any more.  Don't rest.  Don't wait quietly for help.  Start crawling.  And don't, whatever you do, pass out.

Because human brains have an amazing capacity to invent some plausible explanation and then go right on with what they were doing.  

I heard the oddly pitched sound from the vicinity of the cat door, and I did get up to look - once my emails were finished and sent.  

"Shadow?  Pepper?"  Pepper came strutting out of the bedroom alone. 

I poked my head out the back door, called Shadow, then went to the front door and did the same.  I came back, popped the cat door and sent it swinging, suspecting the low cross between a groan and a creaking noise had somehow come from it.  No.  

"Probably some animal that got away," was Popeye's suggestion.  

Shadow loved the yard at dusk and often ignored my calls, even for dinner.  Lizards, dragonflies, and the occasional frog or rodent got dragged in through that cat door nightly.  So yeah, maybe some animal.  It never even occurred to me that it could be our animal.

It was a couple more hours before we found him in the darkest corner of the closet, back in under the hanging clothes.  I slid him out carefully, his glossy black fur offering no resistance over the smooth and shiny laminate.  He wasn't moving, and barely breathing.  

No, no, no, no, no.  No, please, not Shadow.

Popeye and I left the emergency animal care clinic a little after midnight.  The vet opened the oxygen case for a moment so we could give our Shadow a good night pat before we left.  On oxygen and pain meds, his eyes fluttered open, just for a moment.  Then closed again. 

And true to my human nature of disbelief, we went home, fully expecting to pick him up in the morning with maybe a splint on his leg.  My brain allowed for no other scenario.  And certainly not the 2 a.m. call to tell me he was gone.

I've had a hard time getting myself to write about this.  It's been two weeks since I fetched his body home to the back yard pet cemetery.   

Whether our own car was the murder weapon, backing out of our own garage, or whether it was someone else's car out on the street, the truth is that taking life for granted is what we humans do.  Life.  And well-being.  And especially tomorrow.  

Shadow had us all completely charmed.  He was a gifted hunter.  He chirped like a Tribble.  He even got sour old Pepper to chase and play.  (Play!)  And yes, I loved him for his spirited assistance with all the household chores.  I miss him every day.

Cats may have secret lives, but there is one thing I know for a certainty about him, and it helps to stop the tears.   

Shadow loved every minute of his life here with us.  

And we loved every moment of his life here with us too.   

 

.... One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

 

(My Shadow.  Robert Louis Stevenson.) 

Sometimes everything goes right.

Although it turned out differently, there were no hints going in that last week might be any good at all.

It rained for days. 

The county commissioners were all set to sell off the "unused land" (i.e., the off-road bike trails) in Wickham Park. 

And although it was a car this time and not a boat trailer, Popeye acquired another smack down on his bike.  The second one in six months. 

Mondays around here are usually rest days.  Which is not a bad thing, considering the rest of the week just took off and ran away with us. 

If it's Tuesday, there's a ride.  For the roadies, there's the Hospital Ride.  For holdouts on the Dark Side, there's the Beer Can Scramble. 

For me, it's a triple feature.  A quick trail run, then the ride, then the scramble.  (Which is actually all quite politely done, but it makes for a snappy moniker.)
 
In spite of all the rain, or maybe because of it, Turkey Creek has been just plain awesome all summer long.  When it rains, Turkey Creek trails only get faster.  (If only I did too.)

The bridges dry quickly. 

The sand stays wet.

Perfect!

By Wednesday though, the rain was pretty steady all day.  Bad for the street ride, but good for making progress on that baby quilt I've been meaning to finish. 

I like to hang each quilt top for a backlit picture before it gets quilted.  Even when it's gray outside, there's a stained glass effect.   

 

 

Rain, rain go away... 

 

Because the rain cleared up a bit by Wednesday night, we both went ahead with our planned rides. 

Popeye's commute home turned out much shorter than expected.

I was probably just arriving at the start of the Full Moon ride as he was being slammed to the pavement by the car behind him at the light on Palm Bay road.  His back wheel took all the damage, though.  Whew!  

 

I always feel safer off road.

Even with this bunch.

 

 

 

Don't look back!  

Ouch.

 

  
Friday morning we take a quick loop up Tropical Trail.  Popeye rides his Fuel, since the commuter bike is non-functional.  I instantly fall off the back.  As usual.  No matter what bike he rides.  At least we got in a bit of a workout.  (Well, I did anyway.) 

Because the afternoon was pure, over-the-top fun. 

Tree Top Trek!  

More like Tree Top Time Travel. 

Wanna be a kid again?  Here's your ticket.  First of all it's at the zoo.  Then you get to wear a bad ass climbing harness.  A few pointers from the guide, and up you go, into the trees. 

Rope challenges throughout the canopy. 20-60 feet up.  Over the heads of zoo animals.  Interspersed with zip lines.  

An Ewok's dream come true.   

 First (and easiest) challenge.

 

Nice landing! 

Yes, the final zip does go right over the alligators.

 

 

There's one now.

Right about the middle of the photo - see it's head?

 

Saturday is another full day.

Long ride in the morning.  Sailing all afternoon.  

And a  check of the new local Intracoastal Brewery Saturday night. 

Thumbs up on every single beer we tried.

4 down...   ??? to go?

Sleep in on Sunday.  Much coffee.  Econ Sunday afternoon.   No stopping - for photos or anything else.  One fast loop around and arrival at the car just before the first spatters of rain come back. 

So, it was 7 straight days of over the top, 100% fun.  I don't know if Popeye forgot all about his near death experience, but I'm pretty glad I did.  And so very grateful for how lucky he was.

(And grateful the Florida texting-while-driving law goes into effect Oct 1st.)

And then even more good news, right before the Beer Can Scramble started the new week off  all over again.

Yes!   The new college did the right thing, even if the county commissioners probably wouldn't have.  The Wickham Park trails are safe - for the time being anyway.

http://www.floridatoday.com/article/20130924/NEWS01/309240022/Eastern-Florida-State-College-drops-park-purchase

 

 

Saved, not paved. 

For now....