I just listened to it. She did OK. I felt proud of her. Overall, I think this was a good thing for NPR. A reminder that public radio can let its hair down and brush shoulders with us reality-TV-watching, toenail-biting, Triscuit-binging schmucks every once in a while.
On to more pressing matters—should I sleep outside tonight?
When I worked at summer camp in the south Puget Sound, I slept outside every night. It was so serene, falling asleep under the stars and waking up with the birds. I CRAVE that feeling. Thinking about it gives me an achy breaky heart.
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| The stars? Or a close-up of Andy's shoulders when he's wearing a black sweater? HEY-OH! Snap! Image via Wikimedia Commons |
A few summers ago, I was struck with a similar wave of nostalgia. Andy and I were in his hometown, Hampton-In-Arden. It was June 21st, which he kept referring to as "midsummer". I disagreed but didn't question him because I liked the way he kept going on about it. "What a lovely midsummer evening. Isn't there something so wonderful about midsummer. Midsummer is my favourite time of the year, tra la la, tweedley deedley doo!"
In honor of midsummer and the warm weather—a scorching high of 65°F—we decided to sleep outside. We built a tent out of blankets in his mom's back garden. Just as we were dozing off into our midsummer night's dreams, we were jolted awake by a terrifying, high-pitched SHRIEEEEK! The shrillest, most spine-curdling screaming you've ever heard in your life.
As quick as you can say "Midsummer is my favourite time of the year, tra la la, tweedley deedley doo!" we were back in the house, the doors locked and the windows shut tight.
The next morning, his mom told us it was foxes doing mating calls. We Googled it, and she was right.
Maybe I'll sleep outside tomorrow and post a video blog from my sleeping bag. We don't have foxes, but we do have a few neighborhood cats, which is obviously even worse. Still, I think I'll take my chances.
Sweet dreams,
Margaret
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