2000-08-22 - 2:03pm

On the internal soundtrack: The "Science Fiction" song again, which just won't go away.

So Poindexter and I had a sighting last night.

Last week I dragged him out for a walk by the railroad tracks behind our development. We went "exploring". We headed east this time. (We had already explored to the west a few months ago, where I did a little climbing on an abandoned railroad car.) Anyway, we didn't find much over there, so we crossed back over the creek into the park on the edge of the neighborhood.

By this time it had grown quite dark. As we were passing by the lake, I noticed something moving in the water. I assumed it was ducks. But when I looked again, I realized it was *under* the water, with the top of its body peeking above the surface. I ran down to get a closer look. It appeared to be rather large, maybe 3-4 feet long, but Poindexter said that was because of the water ripples around it. I don't know! Maybe we have our very own Loch Ness Monster!

Actually, we think it might have been a beaver. So we went back, last night, looking for it again, but didn't see it. Besides that, there were literally swarms of gnats everywhere, some of which I walked into, leading to excessive shrieking and hopping about on my part. We gave up and just went home. No beaver sightings for me.

Lest you think I have not been working on my to-do list, here are some I forgot to add yesterday:

- Make some pesto with the basil that's growing out of its pot on the porch [CHECK! 3 blanched cloves of garlic, a little parmesan, a few walnuts and it was *perfect*]

- Puree those frozen raspberries and try to make some raspberry vinaigrette [CHECK! Needs some cream to be a perfect match, but it turned out well]

- Wash my nice work clothes to wear instead of wearing jeans every goddamn day [CHECK]

I also washed all my leaves (butter lettuce, spinach) for eating salads and sandwiches this week, so I was very productive and only had 10 minutes to read my book. Dammit.

I'm reading Atlas Shrugged. Or trying to, given all this cooking and crap I'm doing. It's every bit as rapturously absorbing and thought-provoking as The Fountainhead. Plus I'm enjoying it more since I find her characters slightly more believable this time. In The Fountainhead they seemed more like cardboard props for various degrees of her philosophy; here, they almost seem like real people.

It is not very often that I find a book that is riveting enough to make me want to savor every word, especially one that is very long and lasts and lasts. It's like being served a 12-course meal at a five-star restaurant instead of grabbing a Pop-Tart.

Grammy's got her darling grandchildren visiting down in Florida. They went to some "butterfly museum", which, Poindexter said, "Mother thinks you'll really like."

I said, "Why do I want to look at a bunch of dead butterflies under pins?"

Well, no, apparently these butterflies are alive, in a "butterfly house" or whatever the hell they call it, and you get to go in there and the butterflies crawl all over you. Now that's COOL. I can hardly wait to go.

I'm sickly fascinated by bugs. (Butterflies don't count, but they made me think of it, so...) I like to watch those things on the nature channels with bugs swarming all over and eating each other and stuff. I once found, in a rosebush, a preying mantis with a bee held between its front legs, nibbling daintily. In high school I caught a thousand-legger, put it in a fruit fly jar, and carried it around all day grossing people out (including myself; I have goosebumps right now).

I do prefer them to be behind glass, however. If you go to the Natural History Museum in the Smithsonian, you can see all kinds of live bugs in the Orkin (of all the possible sponsors) Exhibit. I saw a BIRD-EATING SPIDER there once. Now that's scary.

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