The Life & Times of Albert The Bug

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Police sketch of AlbertYesterday afternoon, I noticed a small, flat-backed, gray-brown bug near the top of the kitchen sink.

"Bug," I said to Blair, pointing at it. (This is marital code for: "Deal with it.")

"That's Albert," said Blair. (Marital code for: "It's just a bug and I'm trying to make a sandwich and if it bothers you so much, you deal with it.")

I didn't want to deal with it, so Albert stayed. His presence quickly grew on us. About an hour later, I went to put a glass in the sink and noticed Albert had shifted position about a foot to the left.

"Hi, Albert," I said. I heard Blair offer a similar greeting when he returned to the kitchen for a snack. 

Early evening, I go into the kitchen to make dinner. As I'm pouring steaming hot pasta water into the colander to drain the spaghetti, I see Albert perilously close to where the water is splashing up in the sink.

"Albert, look out!" I cried.  

We were cleaning dishes up from dinner when I asked Blair what he thought Albert ate.

"I don't know that we need to carry it that far," he said. 

Huh. In my book, if you name something, it's a pet for life and now you're responsible for it.

Which is why I'm sad to announce that Albert has disappeared. He was nowhere to be found this morning. Maybe we just didn't love him enough. Maybe he was bored. Or hungry.

Or maybe he was just a bug. But he was a good bug. Our bug.

We miss you, Albert. 

A Really Good Run

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Finally! A run I can be proud of. Conditions were perfect yesterday for a long run - 40 degrees, overcast, no wind. For all that, I still wasn't looking forward to my designated 17 miles. Mainly because I knew I'd be doing most of them alone. Poor lonely runner...

I showed up at the tennis courts, the popular starting point in Greensboro for most runners as it has a huge parking lot and leads directly to the Greenway. I ran a quick 3 miles before the formal Blueliner takeoff time of 7:30. Then I ran four miles out with the group. The majority of the group turns back at that point, but I was lucky enough to bump into a runner I'd seen before, but didn't really know. Dave overheard me say I was running 17 and he volunteered that he was going 18 and, like me, had already started the day off with an early 3 miles. Better yet, we ran an identical pace. WHAT A GIFT. The group turned back and Dave I carried on, running together for another hour and a half and chatting along the way. 

Time passes much faster for me when I'm with another runner, even if we're not talking. It's the steady beat of our feet hitting the pavement, listening to our rhythmic breathing, and knowing that even through I'm tired I can carry on a bit further, because the person running alongside me expects me to. 

During the first 4 miles of the group run, Thad, Lisa and me were talking about how, in general, most runners are really good people. If you want to get to know someone, run 15 miles with them. Hard exercise breaks down barriers and you get a quick sense if someone has a sense of humor, is driven, what motivates them, are they a whiner, are they generous... The joke is that around mile 10, everyone starts spilling their relationship and personal and work problems. You can't help it. It's something in the sweat...

So today's blog is a thank-you to Dave, for making Saturday's long run seem so very short indeed. And we pushed each other. Both of our training schedules called for a 9:20 pace but we completed our run with an average per mile pace of 8:50. Sweet.

Dena 

New Watering Hole

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Being in our bedroom these days is like being on the open plains of the Serengeti, in that the cats have discovered a new "watering hole," and are both working to claim dominance. 

We have electric heat and it causes a lot of dryness in the air. Blair read that placing a small container of water in front of a vent helps add moisture to the air. So we filled a small tupperware dish with water and placed it on the floor in our bedroom in front of the heat vent. 

The cats LOVE the water dish. Like the lions of the Serengeti, they take turns at this new watering hole, eyes glittering in the dark as they lap up the warm liquid. We fall asleep each night listening to the constant "schlup-schlup-schlup" sound of cats drinking their body weight in fluid.

And just like a real watering hole, there is a pecking order. You do not approach the watering hole if there is already an animal present. One cat crouches protectively over the dish while the other sits on its haunches across the room, hoping a crocodile appears to drag the dominant cat underwater in a death spiral. 

I expect a pack of zebra's to show up any day.