I am, at the moment and without reason, wholly delirious with joy and mad with energy and oh! it feels ultra shining magically good, but a small part of me is thinking that perhaps i better go check my blood sugar because i haven't eaten any lunch yet today and this kind of sillyness can be a sign of dangerously low blood sugar and it kinda kills me a little that I can't enjoy a sudden surge of happy without pausing to think if it's my blood sugar spiralling.
But first, I want to share two things. One... I think that X : Under the Big Black Sun was one of the best albums ever ever EVAH produced and I wish feverently that I could broadcast my own little radio station right off this page so that you could all be wrapped and cupped in the same sterophonic sound.
And two, you know those evil coons that I'm always ranting about? They're back.
Last night, I was sleeping all snug in my bed when i was awaken at 3:24 a.m. by the wolf. She was standing on my side of the bed, her nose a mere inch from mine, breathing hard in her I'm-hot-and-you-must-get up-RIGHT BLOODY NOW -and-let-me-out-to-roll-in-the-midnight-dew-and-you-can-stand-there-all-blurry-eyed-and-slack-jawed-impatiently-waiting-for-me-to-finish-so-that-you-can-return-to-bed kind of way she has and wagging her tail a little.
So i groaned and rolled out of bed and bumped through the dark and down the stairs behind her. I paused at the french doors in the kitchen and flipped on the back light, squinting out into the night. The wolf impatiently bumped my knee with her nose, indicating that i should hurry up already and so i opened the door.
And then the Wolf did this strange bounding-arcing thing, flinging herself out the door and down the steps, a mad shadowy blur hurtling to the right. And then there was this crash against the side of the house and this horrific screeching hiss like you might imagine an angry cobra would make if it was hissing and shrieking through a megaphone and additionally impersonating a grizzly and something heavy hit the window.
I screamed in blind holy-shit terror and practically fell out the door just in time to see this gargantuan coon streaking across the lawn and shuttling up the fence post, sneering and hissing and being frightfully fangly and stuff. And then, before I could even register that it was a raccoon, it flung itself from the top railing of the fence, lunging down at the wolf, it's eyes red and glowering in the glare of the porch light .
I screamed again and the wolf hurled herself back at me, literally scrambling between my legs to get back into the house and hide under the coffee table in the living room. I heard Jack fall out of bed upstairs and come thundering down the stairs to see what all the fuss was about. By that time, i had managed to figure out that the coon had been trying to get into the garbage can which is located directly next to the stairs leading from the french doors and while I didn't see it hiding in the shadows, Finn did and she took off after the thing. In the scramble, the coon must have hit the window (again just next to the door) and overturned the trash can.
Anyway, Jack was standing in the kitchen by then, in his red plaid boxers, his face still creased from the pillow, blinking at me, panting and quaking, in the doorway and going "what the hell, Mel?" Before I could explain, he nudged me out of the way and peered into the yard. And then the stupid coon CHARGED at him.
He shrieked like a girl and jumped back swearing, nearly knocking me over as he slammed the door shut. Through the glass, we watched the coon casually waddle back into the trash can, intent on the goods. This infuriated Jack. He disappeared but returned momentarily, brandishing the Swiffer Sweeper like a lightsaber. Thus armed, he flew out the door, screaming like a banshee and flailing at the thing with the swiffer. The coon wisely tore back across the lawn and up the fence, disappearing into the night. Swearing a blue streak and glowing all white and ghostly in the porch light ( like Mr. Burns in that X-files episode of the Simpsons), Jack righted the trash can, secured the lid and ushered me and the wolf back upstairs to bed. Oddly, aside from examining the wolf to make sure she hadn't been hurt, neither of us said a word about the whole scene until this morning.
So... that's it. the raccoons have returned and the wolf's midnight tinkles will have to be carefully monitored from now on. Orange Alert in the House of Wee.
Okay... i'm off to ensure that my current state of enthusiasm does not warrant medical intervention of any sort. Peace out.