Notes from Zoom's Zoo

You know what I’ve noticed? The weeks fly by a lot faster when you’re unemployed than they do when you’re employed. And there still aren’t enough hours in the day to do all the things I want to do. I wish I could live forever.

This week was largely taken up with all the babies hatching in the Love Nest. The fourth and final one hatched yesterday. Piccolo, Banjo, Oboe and Butch. Last night over dinner we decided we didn’t like that name after all, so Butch got renamed to Sweet Baby Bongo.

There’s eight days difference in age between Piccolo and Baby Bongo. You know how it is when you bring your second baby home from the hospital? One day your toddler is still your baby, but the next day, next to a newborn, he’s suddenly transformed into a gigantic little boy. It’s like that. Piccolo is freakishly enormous.

What else is new? We harvested our first red heirloom tomato from the garden last night, along with a handful of beans and peas. We haven’t tasted it yet, but we’re looking forward to it. I might plan tonight’s dinner menu all around that tomato.

We’re having more insect problems this year than last. Earwigs. Beetles. Things that eat leaves. We’re not the only ones. We’ve been asked to help pick Japanese beetles out of the organic garden at the Experimental Farm on Sunday morning.

What else? GC reads to Duncan and me most evenings before we fall asleep. Currently he’s reading Flatland to us. It’s a strange satirical novella written in 1884, about dimensions and geometry and social hierarchies. Duncan loves storytime. He lies on GC chest and rubs his chin on the book.

Speaking of Duncan, I think the arrival of four little bird siblings caused him to regress, even though the new babies live at GC’s house and not here. He wet the bed on Tuesday night. He hadn’t done that for over a year. It was on GC’s side, down by the feet. GC kept trying to figure it out. How had we offended Duncan? The litter box was clean, there was plenty of food in his dish. Why did he pee in our bed?

I wasn’t so analytical at 6:00 in the morning.

“Maybe it was an accident,” I said.

GC looked at me skeptically.

Duncan just lay there, snuggled in my arms, looking innocent.