i think my neighbor’s squirrels are gay

i was sitting on my front stoop with my cat when i noticed them frolicking. they were two small squirrels of about the same size playing silently, each taking turns mounting the other, then fighting a little, then wrestling, then mounting. i wondered why squirrels would be mating this late in the summer and then why they were switch hitting with the mounting.

it was then that i first thought they might be gay.

this hypothesis quickly started to gain momentum as one of the squirrels ran off and came back with his collared shirt flipped up and his bangs gelled into place. the other squirrel pulled on a tight t-shirt from abercrombie & fitch and presented the first squirrel with a choker-size wooden-bead necklace.

all of this seemed to be circumstantial, until a third squirrel pulled up in a geo metro with electronica thumping and a rainbow flag equals sign bumper sticker and squeaked something about meeting so-and-so at Cheesman Park before they head over to the Wrangler for chaps night. the t-shirt squirrel leaped down and hopped in the front seat, but the necklace squirrel crossed his furry little arms and stomped his hind leg with his little nose pointed up and over his shoulder. obviously, he wasn’t please about this situation.

much to my surprise, however, the t-shirt squirrel got back out of the car, kissed the necklace squirrel’s back paws and hopped into the back seat of the geo metro. the necklace squirrel got in the front seat and they screeched off down the street.

watching all of this, i realized that my entire hypothesis was based on circumstantial evidence and that none of this actually meant that my neighbor’s squirrels were gay. it’s wrong to stereotype, and it makes no difference to me if these squirrels are gay anyway. so i picked up my then-empty bowl of granola, slid my birkenstocks back on, and the cat and i shuffled back in the house to watch ellen reruns before rosie came on.

smokin’ brakes and a bladder full o’wine

well, this camping trip was full almosts. for example, our brakes almost caught on fire on the way there, we were almost stung by bees (twice) while driving, we missed a turn and almost accidentally drove all the way to fort collins, and we almost got a speeding ticket.

all of these items, thankfully, resolved themselves on their own terms.

the coolest discovery though, was when i got up in the middle of the night to pee (and it was cold, by the way. glad i had my mittens.) and the sky was amazing. the clouds and the moon were wicked cool. but by the time i got my camera out and set up for night shots, the clouds had moved on. i had my aperture set as wide as it would go and held the shutter for over 5 seconds, and the pics were still under exposed, BUT when i adjusted them in photoshop, there were so many more stars than i even saw that night. some of them were red and some were blue. the sky was even a little bit blue too.

naturally, it took me instantly back to the star-gazing nights when i was 16 and we’d be up all night sitting on the end of the dock smalltalking all around an awkward first kiss. it is hard to imagine that starry nights were created for anything other than this.

now, after living in cities for so long, my eyes seem to panic in the true dark of a wilderness night. after a few minutes though, the moonlight is more than sufficient and the near-perfect silence is endless. it is like finally the walls have been lifted and i can hear forever.

i had thought that drinking a bunch of wine was a bad idea when camping because it would make me have to get up and pee in the middle of the night and i’d never be able to get warm again. this was true until recently when i bought a subzero mummy bag. now i can get up, pee, take in the wonderful atmosphere of the night, get back into my bag, and kickstart that buzz saw of zzzzzzs, no problem. (and for the record, i have to pee regardless of drinking.)

this isn’t to say that drinking a bunch of wine is actually a good idea. it’s just that katie’s poor soggy box o’ wine got wet, fell apart, and needed to be kicked. which is to say, instead of a pert little cardboard box on the picnic table, we had a bladder with a spigot that looked a bit more like a blood transfusion bag than a pino noir. nope. this just wouldn’t do. so we put it out of its misery. these things happen sometimes.

and yes, sometimes that means getting up to pee in the middle of the night.

(more photos)