Birds and book, day 151 of 2012
It has been a weird and creepy day in Seattle with four people killed in a coffee/breakfast place in the U District this morning followed by a woman killed on First Hill within an hour of the first shooting, it all being guns today. Much drama ensued which, yes, I found particularly distressing because it seemed like one of the killers was lurking somewhere between my work and my home and much as I'd like to pretend otherwise, it's all about me. I went so far as to ask to have the door of the office locked because while, yes, it's unlikely anyone is going to come crashing to a second floor office to hide, when the police are chasing after someone half a mile away I'm willing to seem a little paranoid. Then, a few hours later, the suspect was either shot and killed by police or killed himself or just shot himself. He was dead. He wasn't dead. All the shooting was done by the same person though the descriptions didn't entirely match. He's got, or had, mental issues. As I said, weird and creepy. It seems that the first victims were members of a local band and so, it turns out, friends of friends of friends. I was worried about Eli in the UDistrict (yes, failing to see the big picture) and he was worried about me (ditto) so we decided to meet downtown for dinner at Mama's. Mama's makes everything better.
In truth, it was also a nice biking to downtown; it's easy and flat and it's probably some of the least salubrious air in the city but it still felt nice to get some exercise and some air. I stopped and bought fruit at Frank's in the market and gosh, but I miss doing my shopping at the market. I then rode half a dozen blocks down First and then a block back up Second to get to Mama's and, gosh, I miss riding downtown, too. I know it's supposed to be scary and dangerous but, I insist, I am careful and it just is fun. So by the time I reached Mama's I was in a much better frame of mind than I'd been all afternoon (because, again, I'm so damned self-centered).
Oh, I've got the trite observations to make; that you just never knows what the day is going to hold (I'm reminded of one of my favorite non-Chick tracts about how you tie your shoes in the morning but it may be the undertaker who unties them at night) so you should appreciate/value the time you have but if one of those killed was someone I loved those observations wouldn't make me feel any better. So, I'm sorry for those people--the dead and those who loved them and those who will never get to know them. I hope they had nice lives and that they said and did all the things that they'd wish they'd said and done. And, you know, the rest of us could try to do the same.
Or we could list birds.
Birds
American goldfinches
house finches
house sparrow
white-crowned sparrows (making quite the racket, too)
bushtits
Anna's hummingbird
gulls
crows
starlings
pigeons
great blue heron (seen off the most industrial waters as I cycled towards downtown; I noticed the shadow of its legs first. Yes, that's just now fast I move on a bike.)
Book
The Pursuit of Love page 51 (Our narrator is being disappointed in her first ball)
In truth, it was also a nice biking to downtown; it's easy and flat and it's probably some of the least salubrious air in the city but it still felt nice to get some exercise and some air. I stopped and bought fruit at Frank's in the market and gosh, but I miss doing my shopping at the market. I then rode half a dozen blocks down First and then a block back up Second to get to Mama's and, gosh, I miss riding downtown, too. I know it's supposed to be scary and dangerous but, I insist, I am careful and it just is fun. So by the time I reached Mama's I was in a much better frame of mind than I'd been all afternoon (because, again, I'm so damned self-centered).
Oh, I've got the trite observations to make; that you just never knows what the day is going to hold (I'm reminded of one of my favorite non-Chick tracts about how you tie your shoes in the morning but it may be the undertaker who unties them at night) so you should appreciate/value the time you have but if one of those killed was someone I loved those observations wouldn't make me feel any better. So, I'm sorry for those people--the dead and those who loved them and those who will never get to know them. I hope they had nice lives and that they said and did all the things that they'd wish they'd said and done. And, you know, the rest of us could try to do the same.
Or we could list birds.
Birds
American goldfinches
house finches
house sparrow
white-crowned sparrows (making quite the racket, too)
bushtits
Anna's hummingbird
gulls
crows
starlings
pigeons
great blue heron (seen off the most industrial waters as I cycled towards downtown; I noticed the shadow of its legs first. Yes, that's just now fast I move on a bike.)
Book
The Pursuit of Love page 51 (Our narrator is being disappointed in her first ball)