Midsummer, the summer solstice, the full moon at the end of June, my marriage anniversary - the specific date itself eludes me, but it is generally my favourite time of the year. Adventurer's mojo is strongest in hot summer nights, when fireflies roam the countryside and animals make scary sounds in the forests, where landscapes are silver and the wind is a harbinger of thunderstorms that hit amazingly locally. To sleep outdoors in the countryside at a time like this is a particular kind of bliss.
That was my only 10th-anniversary wish - I mean besides the with that we travel Europe this year, which pandemics and all thwarted. But G had a day off and the plan was to go to his parents' fields and set up hammocks there even on a Friday - Friday being the only day the whole month that could have had any precipitation. We moved the plans, so it didn't, but if we tried to sleep outside, I'm sure cats and dogs would rain aplenty.
Last night there was a neighbour's after-birthday picnic, so we went there, a cushy small garden event with too much food and some friendly catching up. I tried to pet an adolescent kitten, which slapped me so hard I now look like an old Celt warrior, with cut marks running from my mouth to my ear, half a Glasgow smile. Before nightfall, I sought the oldest, most remote pair of trees in the fields and the General helped me with the ropes, trying to teach him basic 8-knot - I let him have my hammock, me testing a small cheap one (which didn't come with ropes.) You can always tell how people trust in the hammock by how far above the ground it's set - in this case, not at all. My butt was touching the grasses. Illyria, tied to one of the trees, made herself a nest in the grass and watched over us and, wouldn't you know, that kitten showed up and insisted on sleeping on top of me all night.
General was so cute. He is not used to hammocking - not sure how it works and not at all sure it's safe at all - we got him a huge sleeping bag (namely meant for a couple), yet he lay in the hammock, like Dracula in a long thin boat, refusing to improvise (those hammocks are so large you can sleep sideways or even across quite comfortably.) He complains of a sore back now, but in truth, once the dogs stopped barking at barking foxes and deer, and owls stopped trying to land on the trees and the cat stopping to purr like a steam engine, his pleasant snoring began and he was out. I was too preoccupied with taking care of his comfort to sleep, freezing in my K-mart get-up, my jaw hurt from an inflamed lymph node and at some point moon rolled over us, like an airport spotlight, making everything impossibly bright. Uu, but before that, when the night was still pitch black, fireflies filled the valley!! The kitten tried to chase some, unsuccessfully and tried to get the dog to play with her, suggesting they assault my sandals, or one of Okti's tentacles, or my face.
Once it got bright, tops of the mountains colouring orange, I got up to take a long stroll around the basin - fields having been clad in the thinnest morning mist, roe deer nibbling between wheat fields, birds looking for berries, and the grasses high and wet with dew. In my brain, it was still the weekend, so when small industries and traffic began to stir all around, it was kind of too soon. Still. Off I went, to the farmhouse, to get some coffee and the Kindle and brush my teeth and pee, and then return to listen to G snore. Just as I was approaching, I watcha a dew-drenched kitten (it has a long white and black coat) hang by a single nail off his hammock, seemingly changing its mind about assaulting him in my absence. For a cat with no survival instinct, it had an excellent survival instincts :)))
