My daughter is in Hong Kong. Staying at a nice place. Hong Kong has no wildlife. Not even bugs. A few birds, a bunch o’ fish in aquariums and a few domestic dogs. That’s it. Maybe a tree. I wrote her yesterday to see how she was doing. This was part of her answer:
“The only real ‘news’ was something that just happened, not an hour ago. I was walking up to the house and as I went to head up the metal stairs, I heard a “HISSS” (I was looking at something else) and I whipped my head around, and there was a cobra with it’s head up, hood out, making little mini-lunge movements at me…. Scared the bejesus out of me!!!!!
“I don’t know if we told you about our last cobra story… but there was a big cobra that we could’ve stepped on if Bri didn’t catch a glimpse of it’s tail moving….. and that cobra was a decent size! That was a couple weeks ago…. they caught him and got rid of him… and now there was this little guy today….”
This story kind of revises my take on that city. Seems there is wildlife there.
I’ll take the wolves!
The silly season has started. In full. Social do’s, dinners, visitors up the yin yang. All of July booked (overbooked, actually. We have three days with more people than beds). Plus all the projects have to continue even at a slower-than-usual pace – slower than snail, just a smidge faster than glacial. And it all starts with a bang tomorrow.
It is truly amazing how the seasons affect my popular standing. Seems I am a bit of a pariah until the sun shines. But then, everyone loves me! I am thinking of relocating to a place where the sun don’t shine but Sal says I am already partially there. My head is there, anyway.
Barge comes in a few days. Get stocked up on gas and crap. Building supplies coming in, too. Studio gets underway again. That’s good. I love the smell of sawdust in the morning. Might get a copy of Ride of the Valkyries to play real loud while I am cutting lumber. Seems kinda fitting.
Anyway, I’m pretty healthy. All things considered. And I must admit, I have a lot of things to consider when I am making that statement. But, regardless, I am not complaining. I can move about, carry things, hammer, eat, poop and laugh. I got the basics covered anyway. Sleeping is sometimes a bit of a challenge but, all in all, I am good. Still, one has to go to the doctor. De rigeur, it seems, when you are 65. It’s like a hobby. Or the theatre. You know? You go do it every few months?
What a racket!
I am getting a procedure. It is an old-man’s test for crap. Little probing, little analysis, little crappy junk. I hate it. But I hate the system even more. Seems I have to go in and have a ‘consult’. “I don’t need a consult, I said, I have had the procedure before. I know what it is all about. I don’t need to talk about it again with someone who doesn’t care anyway. Just bill the medical services plan, get your money and we’ll just say we had a consult.”
“Can’t do that!”
“Well then, I’ll do it by phone. You don’t need to see me to consult. Consulting is talking. I can talk by phone.”
“The doctor will not consult by phone!”
And they call it Health Care! I call it MoneyCare. The symbol for the practice of medicine is two snakes wrapped up a pole. My daughter has seen two cobras within days. Coincidence?
I don’t think so.