The tectonic plates of the Pacific Northwest
The wonderful Bim Adewunmi tweeted a link to this article the other day:
It is compellingly written and utterly terrifying. I am glad that I’ve already been to Seattle because it is very clearly going to COLLAPSE INTO THE SEA or be CONSUMED BY A TSUNAMI or BOTH. In our lifetime! Probably! And there will be nothing anyone can do to protect themselves, because all the settlements and skyscrapers and Starbuckses were built by people who felt invincible, and put no disaster readiness steps in place.
FRIENDS IN SEATTLE: START RUNNING NOW.
I am not joking.
Move inland. And high up. Or maybe to Japan.
Drunk, fighty wasps
We have been locked in a battle of wills with a nestful of wasps this summer. We don’t know where the nest is, exactly, but it’s close enough to our bedroom that they all want to come in on their scavenging expeditions.
They come through the window, through the air vent, and seemingly through the walls. Every day for the last four months, there has been at least one wasp somewhere in our flat. Sometimes dead, sometimes alive.
I’ve found them caught in the collars of cardigans, nestled in my makeup bag. They’ve drowned in the toilet or parched themselves out on the windowsill. One day, I came home to find seven of them dead on the bedroom carpet.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT???”
They cannot say.
Our letting agent has stopped pretending they are going to do anything to tackle the problem, and have instead helpfully told us that it’s ok because they’ll all die soon.
In the meantime, though, they’ll be getting drunk on overripe fruit and buzzing around in hedonistic abandon. Which would be fine if they weren’t doing it in my bedroom – but they are.
Go away, wasps.
My Big Nephew is too big
I am sure that your life is rich and full, but if you have never been hugged by my nephew Jack then you are missing out on one of the world’s great joys. He understands that a hug is something you really need to commit to, you know?
He is a total clotheshorse, and has at times looked like he was fifteen since he was about five and a half.
But now he’s actually eleven which might as well be sixteen and he is going to get too cool to hug me for at least a decade and this is an enormous tragedy.
(He is so great and sweet and funny and smart and I love him).
My Little Nephew is also too big
He is 10 weeks old now and seems to have notions of continuing to get bigger for the next 20 years or so. Selfish.
I can’t read all the books
I’ve been rereading all 8 books in the Anne of Green Gables series because it is important to revisit your kindred spirits from time to time. But rereading is time that isn’t being spent reading something for the first time; and reading something newly published is time that isn’t being spent discovering a neglected classic; and reading a famous book is time that isn’t being spent reading a personal gem; AND HAVE YOU SEEN HOW BIG THE WATERSTONES ON PICADILLY IS?
No matter how much cleaning we do, new dust will always arrive.
Why is turkey mince A Thing but chicken mince not really A Thing?
Is there a poultry cabal we should be concerned about?
I have an appointment at the dentist in a month
I hate the dentist. (Not mine specifically; she is perfectly nice, but what on earth drove her to want to spend her time dealing with people’s teeth? Teeth are HORRIBLE).
There’s a lot of fruit in the house and I’m not sure of the optimum order to eat it
I have two big angry spots on the front of my left shoulder, and what if that’s a place I get spots now, and people start calling me Spotty Spotty Leftshoulder and avoiding me at the swimming pool?
What if, though?
I just remembered about these dogs with human hands from Sesame Street