The rest of the eclipse
May. 16th, 2003 08:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pameladeanWe stood in the alley behind Eric's apartment building, staring at the dim round moon. Nighthawks shrilled overhead. Eric heard the first one just a few days ago, as he saw the first chimney swift of the season not so very long before that; and now both kinds of bird are very numerous in his neighborhood.
We went upstairs, where I failed to greet the cat properly. Eric showed me how he was managing to see the moon while sitting in the bathtub, but in fact because I am nine inches shorter than he, I found it a much easier task. The bathtub was remarkably comfortable. It's made to be leant back in, after all. Eric contorted himself around me to look out the window too, and the cat, having rampaged around the apartment and attacked Eric's foot, finally darted under the tub and started pouncing on my hair, which was hanging down over the edge of the tub.
Eventually Eric wanted to use the tub for its intended purpose, so I adjourned to the main room and looked out the other eastward-facing window. The fuzzily-lit edge of the moon changed, but there was always a slice of it fuzzily-lit. Eric told me that the Earth's shadow is blurred by the atmosphere.
"It looks different!" I called at one point; a much brighter light had appeared on the upper lefthand edge of the globe. As it grew larger, the moon flattened and retreated, and by the time it was a wodgy badly-shaped crescent, it no longer seemed only a hundred feet away.
We turned the lights back on. The cat gave up his campaign of terror and went to sleep on the bed. I read Eric's paper and marked a few matters of language. I looked at the page in the astronomical calendar that he had left for me.
We were up much too late, engaged in esoteric conversation of various kinds.
Eric had to get up early to go polish and print out the final draft of the paper. When he brought me my usual breakfast, I automatically took my medication -- two hours early. This, I decided later, is why when I got home I immediately fell over and slept like the dead until two in the afternoon, and then dragged around until mid-evening, when the combined effects of last night's medication and this morning's untimely dose wore off a bit.
We waited for his bus under white-flowering, fragrant trees, and saw one another off with a kiss. He has company this weekend, but I'll see him Sunday evening.
I came home to discover that Christopher, Lydy's best friend, who's staying with us while he finds a job, was meaning to make dinner. He has made a lovely "margarita chili" for us twice, and tonight was spaghetti and steamed broccoli and some twisted experiments in fried polenta that tasted quite nice. David provided a bottle of wine that, he deduced, we had acquired during our trip to Noreascon 3 in 1989, and we had a lovely time.
I pottered in the garden a bit. My Casablanca lilies are coming up after all. Also, another kind of Oriental lily (five to six feet tall, fragrant, blooms in late summer) that I planted two years ago and decided would never show its face, has sent up two thin but determined-looking stems. I watered and fed these, and removed a lot of grass from around the new Casablancas.
The not-quite-Canada violets -- white violets, but on smaller plants, and with more gray or purple on their faces, as opposed to the yellow center and thin gray lines of the Canada violet proper, are rioting all over the back yard. The yarrow and peonies and Shasta daisies and dame's rocket have buds and seem to grow inches every day.
I have a lot of bluejays. I think it's the peanut-butter seed cakes. Must keep them in stock.
Pamela
We went upstairs, where I failed to greet the cat properly. Eric showed me how he was managing to see the moon while sitting in the bathtub, but in fact because I am nine inches shorter than he, I found it a much easier task. The bathtub was remarkably comfortable. It's made to be leant back in, after all. Eric contorted himself around me to look out the window too, and the cat, having rampaged around the apartment and attacked Eric's foot, finally darted under the tub and started pouncing on my hair, which was hanging down over the edge of the tub.
Eventually Eric wanted to use the tub for its intended purpose, so I adjourned to the main room and looked out the other eastward-facing window. The fuzzily-lit edge of the moon changed, but there was always a slice of it fuzzily-lit. Eric told me that the Earth's shadow is blurred by the atmosphere.
"It looks different!" I called at one point; a much brighter light had appeared on the upper lefthand edge of the globe. As it grew larger, the moon flattened and retreated, and by the time it was a wodgy badly-shaped crescent, it no longer seemed only a hundred feet away.
We turned the lights back on. The cat gave up his campaign of terror and went to sleep on the bed. I read Eric's paper and marked a few matters of language. I looked at the page in the astronomical calendar that he had left for me.
We were up much too late, engaged in esoteric conversation of various kinds.
Eric had to get up early to go polish and print out the final draft of the paper. When he brought me my usual breakfast, I automatically took my medication -- two hours early. This, I decided later, is why when I got home I immediately fell over and slept like the dead until two in the afternoon, and then dragged around until mid-evening, when the combined effects of last night's medication and this morning's untimely dose wore off a bit.
We waited for his bus under white-flowering, fragrant trees, and saw one another off with a kiss. He has company this weekend, but I'll see him Sunday evening.
I came home to discover that Christopher, Lydy's best friend, who's staying with us while he finds a job, was meaning to make dinner. He has made a lovely "margarita chili" for us twice, and tonight was spaghetti and steamed broccoli and some twisted experiments in fried polenta that tasted quite nice. David provided a bottle of wine that, he deduced, we had acquired during our trip to Noreascon 3 in 1989, and we had a lovely time.
I pottered in the garden a bit. My Casablanca lilies are coming up after all. Also, another kind of Oriental lily (five to six feet tall, fragrant, blooms in late summer) that I planted two years ago and decided would never show its face, has sent up two thin but determined-looking stems. I watered and fed these, and removed a lot of grass from around the new Casablancas.
The not-quite-Canada violets -- white violets, but on smaller plants, and with more gray or purple on their faces, as opposed to the yellow center and thin gray lines of the Canada violet proper, are rioting all over the back yard. The yarrow and peonies and Shasta daisies and dame's rocket have buds and seem to grow inches every day.
I have a lot of bluejays. I think it's the peanut-butter seed cakes. Must keep them in stock.
Pamela
