Roaring Fires

A few nights ago, Terry and I were sitting on the couch waiting for some friends to stop by, and I said "wouldn't it be nice to have a roaring fire right there?"

Terry laughed and said, "No, we'd be running around screaming 'put it out! Put it out!'"

No romance, man.

But prophecy? Maybe!

Tonight I decided I wanted a fried egg to eat with my quinoa, so I put the pan on the electric stove with some olive oil and immediately forgot what I was doing. I went into the other room to check e-mail, and after awhile I smelled something weird. I went back into the kitchen and the pan was in flames! I literally ran around in circles yelling "I don't know what to do! I don't know what to do!" Silly me - I realized I do know what to do: cover the pan to smother the flame. It has no lid, so I used another pan that was sitting there. But the whole apartment filled with smoke.

The fire alarm went off about the same time that my landlady came running downstairs to see where the smoke was coming from. Fortunately by that time everything was under control.

So evidently my nose is (at least temporarily) more sensitive than the smoke detector... luckily this balances out the forgetfulness!

When Terry came home he just laughed: "Didn't I tell you that if we had a roaring fire in the room it wouldn't be romantic?"

Dear Hunting

Sunday afternoon we decided to go for a hike, and picked Abbot Trail loop since we hadn't hiked it before and it seemed like it would be a fairly level 2-hour walk. As we drove off the tarmac and on to dirt road, I noticed various vehicles parked on the side of the roads and had a sudden thought - "Hey Terry, is it deer hunting season?"

Hmmm....

He wasn't sure, so we went on to find the trail head. As we got out of the car we saw a guy walking towards us with a neon orange vest and a gun. Yep, definitely deer season. But we went over to read the signs posted at the trail head, just in case there was a notice along the lines of "No Deer Hunting allowed on this trail!" Or, conversely, "Open Season on Deer - Hikers Keep Out!" Well, no such sign either way.

T: "Well, let's give it a shot."
Me: "Uh, nice choice of words there!"

The second we stepped on the trail, we heard a loud BANG! that sent us scurrying back to the car. Yeah, never mind!

So we ended up hiking Buttermilk Falls instead, which was very pretty but quite the uphill haul for a good ways. And... in case you hadn't heard, I'm officially 12 weeks pregnant, so it was an extra-challenging hike. But great fun.

Oh, I also wanted to say that peacenik/tree-hugger that I am, I am also a big fan of deer hunting - seriously! What could be better than free-range, organic venison? Yum! Plus, every vegetable garden I've ever grown has been ravaged by deer. They are VARMINTS! So please, go get 'em!

Today

Today Terry vacuumed the whole apartment (even the corners! Of the ceiling!), shopped, cooked, did laundry, fed me, and even wrote a whole analysis and report for Habitat. Wow - Superman!

I slept in, was very grumpy, spent all afternoon reading in the library and all evening writing a 5-page farce of a paper, ate, and took a long nap. I think I owe him a foot rub :-)

neologism

Terry coined a new word for people who order fancy espresso-based drinks at the coffee shop and hold up the line (he always gets black drip coffee, straight up): "pretensionistas." I think it's perfect. :-)

Eve's Apple and the Bliss of Ignorance

I'm beginning to think that there is such a thing as knowing too much.

I'm helping T. with a consulting job for a juggernaut Christian NGO (that I won't name here) and, frankly, am really struggling to stay with it. I have so many reservations and philosophical issues with some of their projects - which, to be fair, every person I've talked to who works for them also struggles with.

The same could be said for my current "interesting" condition - it's hard to relax, knowing so much about all that could yet go wrong, or may have already gone wrong but I just don't know about it yet.

At the same time, there is a sense in which the knowledge that comes from experience is so hard-won that it takes on a feeling of value. I don't know that, given the choice, I would want to return to blissful ignorance.

(I'm trying to work in an allusion to William Blake but will have to leave it here in the parentheses).