I was lounging in the tub this morning, soaking in the glorious hot water, when Kris — standing at the bathroom window — whispered, "There are two raccoons outside. Come see."

"I'm in the tub," I said. I had no plans to move. I was warming my inner core.

"Now there's three raccoons. Come see. Quickly. They're moving."

I sighed. I rose, naked and dripping, from the tub. I dabbed myself here and there with a towel. I unstopped the drain. "Hurry up," Kris said. "They're back by the locust tree."

I lumbered, still naked and still dripping, to see the raccoons. I grabbed my camera on the way. When I reached the back of the house, Kris and Simon were standing by the back door, staring at a small army of coons loping across the lawn. "There's four of them," I said. I snapped a photo. "Crap," I said. "This is a bad lens for this. And there's not enough light."

The raccoons slid around the house, past the berry vines. We slid into the parlor. I was naked and dripping. "What's that one doing to the sprinkler?" Kris asked.

"Crap," I said. "I'm only getting a third of a second. These photos are going to suck."

The raccoons sauntered over to the corn. "They're after the corn," Kris said as I snapped blurry photo after blurry photo. "Wait. They've already been at the corn. They've torn it down. They're drinking from your wading pool."

"There's five of them," I said. The raccoons swarmed on the upside-down wading pool, drinking from pockets of water. As a group, I found them rather intimidating. "I'm glad the cats are inside," I said. Simon stared out the window at the raccoons.

The raccoons drank their fill, and then loped off toward the street. One raccoon paused to climb partway up our spruce. A couple of the beasts played with each other. "I wonder if that's a mother and her four children," Kris said.

"Crap," I said. "I forgot to rinse my hair."

I returned, still naked and still dripping, to rinse my head in the tub.

On this day at foldedspace.org

2004 — Alaskan Voyage: Portland to Vancouver   For the past two weeks, Kris and I have spent time in Canada and Alaska, thinking only briefly of the cats, of the house, and of you.

2003 — Reflections From a Log   In which I sit midstream upon a log, alone in the woods outside Estacada.

2002 — Warcraft III Thoughts   Though Warcraft III and Starcraft seem to share similar features, it seems that the strategies for the two games are vastly different. I'm pretty competent at Starcraft. I suck at Warcraft III.