When I got home this evening, there was an e-mail from my friend Ree. This was the first I had heard about the massacre at a university in Virginia. What an atrocity.The lack of information served to reinforce the feeling that I have had all day that I have been part of a stage play. Maybe a Somerset Maugham.
I got up feeling unwell, that thing again, cold feeling right at the top of my chest, slight feverishness. Cough. And then the rain, just a drizzle at first. But once inside the Nature House, the rain increased on the cedar shingle roof, and rattled the skylights. Two people were not in work, another doesn't work Mondays, leaving just two of us to perform our dialogues. And that's how the day progressed.
Had anyone been watching our play they would have seen us go to the kitchen every so often, sit and drink a cuppa, discuss politics, different countries, children, history, customs and mores, back and forth, work, look out of the window, listen to the rain, discuss.
I am moving offices, I'm surrounded by crap and taxidermy. I was reminded of a Jeff Goldbloom quote from his new TV series.
'Taxidermy is the highest form of flattery.'
Yes, I can see that, except that the coyote who is staring at me has a sign round his neck saying,
'Do not touch, may contain arsenic.' I don't think my illness is arsenic related however.
My colleague came in and said he needed to get hold of some coyote urine. I looked at him.
'You may need a live one.'
'Yes.'
'How can you possibly get coyote urine?'
'I think they might sell it somewhere.'
'Seriously, even if you were in the business of supplying it, how the hell would you collect it? How could you even collect your own dog's urine?' I resisted the urge to ask if he were taking the piss.
'I think you could,' he said, 'if you found out where they did it you could hide a bucket there,'
'I know where there's some coyote scat,' I offered,
'That would do.' I didn't take the opportunity to get out onto the trails, I just told him where it was.
This afternoon I started to feel worse. The cough deepened, the voice started to go, aches arrived. I came home, cancelled my evening arrangements and came up to bed.
As I left work, the sky brightened behind me. By the time I was home, the sun was out.
On TV, the Virginia Police are investigating the crime scene with snow swirling around them.
In another segment, a woman tells us how to get our own weather pixie. Who wouldn't want one? She tells us that when the weather gets warmer, our own pixie wears less clothes.
This is the BBC, I expect perfection. After this blunder she goes on to tell us how to get our writing checked so that we don't make any mistakes.
Ho hum. Fewer is more.
In Canada, or this part of Canada, or this part of this part of Canada, we don't pronounce 'coyote' as 'kai-o-tee' but rather 'kai-ote'. Trivia, but you never know when it might come in handy.
