7_quick_takes_sm

Take the first: In which we discuss snack foods

I finally visited the Corvallis Trader Joe’s. Bought a package of trail mix with macadamias, cranberries, almonds and candied ginger. YUM. Best of all, nobody likes the candied ginger but me!

Take the second: In which we realize today is Friday the 13th

When I was in high school, Friday the 13th was a day dreaded above all others, at least if you had Murv Fanning for math. He liked to give out fiendishly difficult pop quizzes on those days, the kind that made you wish you’d forged Mom’s signature and stayed home sick.

These days, I have a hard enough time remembering what day it is at all, let alone whether the date has any particular significance. But like all good journalists, my worst nightmares find me back in math class. (Usually its finals time and I’ve skipped the class all year.)

This particular Friday the 13th is going quite nicely, thank you, except for having to clean up more cat barf this morning. I watered the garden and the apple trees. The Princesses and I took a bike ride across town. Husband is dusting off the life jackets so we can join some friends at Foster Reservoir later this weekend.

Of course, I am here at work, but this, too, is a blessing, particularly because we have air conditioning.

Take the third: In which we say, AAACK! No more “Cathy”

I like the comic strip “Cathy.” There, I said it.

It got a little repetitive, true. And I didn’t like it every day. But more often than not I would read about her attempts to organize her desk, find the perfect swimsuit or avoid the cookie jar, and I would feel my mouth twist into that wry half-smile that says, “I hear ya, Cathy. Me, too.”

I’ll be sorry to see it go.

Full disclosure: I also like ABBA, Cheez Whiz and “It’s A Small World.” It’s my right as an American. So there.

Take the fourth: In which we segue to other comics

Mike McInally over at the Gazette-Times is looking for “Cathy” replacements. I’m lobbying hard for “Sherman’s Lagoon,” a personal favorite. What would you pick? What would you drop?

Take the fifth:

OK, I will, because that’s also my right as an American. HAHAHAHAHA!

Take the sixth: In which we say, yay for meteor showers

I got interested in starwatching about the same time I began learning about Greek mythology (third grade – more about that in a minute). My cousin bought me one of those little cardboard star maps with the paper dial. I still have it, and it still works.

Mostly, I have watched the Perseid meteors fall while standing in various front or back yards. I can remember staying out all night to see them only once: on an overnight camping trip in Crescent City, Calif., in 1993. That’s something I’d like to do again, but alas, not this year. I sat out for an hour in our back yard, saw five or six total (one really, really good one blazed from south to north like someone throwing a sparkler) and then went to bed.

Yes, I am getting old, thanks for reminding me. In my defense, however, I was hoping to see more on an overnight camping trip this weekend. That was before we realized every camping spot west of the Rockies had been reserved since Christmas 2007. So maybe I’ll get my overnighter in our back yard after all.

I think what I love most about them is the silence. By all rights these things should be sputtering like a bowl of Rice Krispies as they blaze their paths through the night, and all you hear is – nothing. Glorious silence as they streak across the sky. Beautiful and mysterious and ephemeral and gone.

Take the seventh: In which we realize we’d likely be able to buy and sell you if it weren’t for our third-grade reader

Back in my day, our elementary school readers told tales not about Dick and Jane, but about Sam and Ann. We read about their adventures in big paperback books, about the size of a PeeChee folder, called Sullivan readers. After each story would come a series of questions, and you were supposed to circle the answer on a clear plastic page insert, then pull down on a cardboard tab along the left side of the page to see the correct answer.

I was already reading by the time I entered school, so I went through the Sullivans quicker than most of my classmates. It was worth getting to the end. The last series had Sam and Ann and their red-headed buddy, Walter, going through a magic mirror … magic door? … no, magic mirror, I’m pretty sure, and exploring the world of Greek mythology. I specifically remember the trio being presented with the problem of undoing the Gordian knot, and how Sam figured out that he could “undo” the knot by cutting it to pieces with a sword.

Those little readers led me to the classic, “D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths,” which I practically wore out, and later to Edith Hamilton’s “Mythology,” and eventually to the Iliad and The Odyssey and The Aenied. In fact, they’re probably to blame for my whole English major.

Curse you, Sullivan readers! I might have been a millionaire engineer by now if it hadn’t been for you!

Next time, make Sam and Ann build a bridge, and Walter can be a pharmacist.