Skunk patrol

There are skunks in my neighborhood.

I should explain that my corner of suburbia is an old one. My house was built in 1955, and the newer part of the neighborhood was built up in the early 80’s. Rather than a developer buying an acreage and rubber-stamping dozens of identical, cheaply made paperboard mcmansions, this one grew slowly, more organically. As a result, there is a lot of empty space that a developer would have min/maxxed into oblivion.

It’s this empty space that has various overgrown brush, groves, and well placed drainage creeks. Some of them are better maintained than others; none of them are on any public land, it’s all a part of someone’s property. But the uneven and mismatched shape of the plots of land don’t lend themselves well to further development, so they remain wild green space.

And skunks live there, among other creatures. The only ones bothering *me* are the groundhogs that would raid and destroy my garden, but enough chicken wire put a stop to that. Either way, that’s a different story.

Skunks. They’re nocturnal, so being out during the day is normal as any other mid latitude deciduous climate. But when it starts to get dark, they start to come out.

It doesn’t bother me. I see one, I just go the other way. But it has this added benefit that really keeps the neighborhood shining: no miscreants. Yea I said it. My town doesn’t have any wandering ne’er do wells looking for crimes of opportunity. No, the bored teenagers see the skunks and decide to stay in.

Though it does make the walk from my front door to the car early in the morning a bit treacherous. I’ve resorted to using the side door, since the skunks stay off my deck. The last thing I want to do is get blasted because I opened the front door and startled a spice weasel that was rooting around the hedges.

Birthday parks

Every year on my birthday, I try to find a new park I haven't been to, and then go exploring. One of the benefits of living in New York state is the absolute abundance of parks, so I'm not going to run out anytime soon. This year it was Salmon River Falls. It was wet and rainy, so the gorge trail was slick in addition to being very steep, but that meant we had the place to ourselves.

 

The falls aren't exactly large, but they follow a dam built last century, so if they let out more water than normal, it can get dangerous fast.

 

Such a peaceful trickle.

 And of course the best view of all, my wondrous traveling companion.

The orange sky

I get up before the sun, so a little fog isn't unheard of, even on the warmer nights.

This wasn't fog. I was aware of wildfires in Canada, but didn't put much thought into them because they're usually out west. Turns out this batch is in Quebec, and the wind is pulling the smoke straight down.

The sky was a hazy orange all day. My camera really didn't show it. The clouds weren't clouds, and as bright as it was, the sun was an orange dot on a dim grey smear.

It got darker as the day went on. The entire area smells like a campfire. I would complain, but there are people that live where those wildfires are, so I'll only say I wish neither of us had our respective problems.

(Yours are way worse though. Good luck)

I hear it's supposed to be worse tomorrow. The whole town feels so eerie.

Trampoline timing

Last year, when I bounced on the trampoline with my kids (they keep asking because I can bounce them really high), I would tire out within ten minutes.

This weekend, I outlasted them all. Going the the gym sucks some mornings, but stuff like this is so worth it.

Amateur chiropractor

So every now, my shoulder isn't quite where it should be. When it's bad, I visit my chiropractor and she knocks me back into place.

Well after a long busy Friday putting my garden in, my shoulder was out of whack again. Unfortunately, not only was my chiropractor out of office all weekend, but she's booked for the next few days afterward. So there I am, laying face down on my bed holding my arm in the one, admittedly awkward, position that hurts the least. In comes my daughter, asking what's wrong. She prods me trying to find out just where the pain is, tapping parts of my upper back until she knows where it hurts.

Flashback: a few months ago I was running a few errands with my daughter, and right in the middle of those was a visit to the aforementioned chiropractor. It's a small, rather informal office, so she was right in there with me. She asked a hundred questions, and the doctor was very patient, explaining what was going on as it happened. In fact, on subsequent visits she's been disappointed I didn't bring my daughter.

Anyway.

So my daughter, every prodding, finds out where it hurts. She asks if I'm going to the chiropractor, and when I said I can't, she jumped on me.

No, she lined herself up, aimed right at the spot I said hurt, and dropped her entire body weight right on to the part of my shoulder that was out of whack. Knocked the wind out of me and made a sound like popcorn in my shoulder.

Once I regained myself, the pain in my shoulder was nearly gone. I still went for the formal visit, which finished the job, but my daughter is probably going to med school.