Rod's Alter Ego

Update: Summer

A day of rain. A much needed rain, they assured us. I am endlessly suspicious of this ubiquitous they who purport to know what I, or you, and anyone else needs. True enough, the ground was bone dry, and I've no doubt our local plant life is tickled green, tho for the rest of us it's a day to remain inside, pay bills, rid the corners of dust bunnies, sing along to Carly Simon's Your So Vain (which, some of you may know, was not about Mick Jagger or Warren Beatty), or finish a book. Master is presently enthralled by Richard Russo's Straight Man. Personally, I'm looking forward to a nap.

Not a bad day for an Open House. The newly built one behind us for instance. It was built by the same builder who built ours, and tho it's slightly bigger it's not as nifty inside as ours. Or outside for that matter. Our front and back yards are covered with verdant grass (btw, that fertilizer we used worked faster than mainlined heroin), ornamented with a dozen trees, and the back yard is entirely fenced. By contrast, the house for sale is surrounded by a faceless plain of dirt. Mud today. The asking price was $449K, recently lowered to $419K. Right now I see a nice couple peering out the second floor bedroom window, from where they can see our verdant backyard lawn, spotted here and there by dead patches of brown grass, supposedly from my pee, and tho she denies it, I suspect Lucy's as well.

Yesterday was glorious, sunny, warm and hardly a breath of wind. We went for a hike in the nearby mountains. The tundra flowers were exploding with delight:

Siberian Aster

Yellow Saxifrage

Wild Geranium (aka "Crane's Bill")

Alaska Hottie (Mom, not me).

Earlier in the week Master returned from Boston where he presented a talk on one of his recent papers. On the way he stopped off in Cleveland to attend the Case Cancer Retreat, and while there picked up his diploma. It's official now:

Dr. Nibbe (but not the kind who helps people - haha!)

As I enter my senior years a simple hike in the mountains requires I take an inflammation fighter. The ubiquitous they says I need a selective COX-2 inhibitor, to shut down the production of my prostaglandins, and this will lessen my pain. I find a single dose also makes me sleepy. And so it was that last night, with a full bowl of food quietly digesting inside me, I drifted off into a luxurious, drug-assisted sleep. Meanwhile, the uprights cleaned up and headed out for date night. So sound was my sleep I didn't hear the door close behind them.