Ow my balls!

I had a super odd afternoon. Let me walk you through the events:

I made it to the library just minutes before closing. I had books to return, books to donate and books to pick up.

I inhale books - did you know that? Not that I read anything of substance; however, a nice 300-400 page paperback can keep me occupied and out of trouble for the duration of most domestic flights. Being that I flew clear across the country (my first time coast to coast) twice this week, I ripped through more than one book. Normally I try to hit the library before I travel - just to keep costs down - but for this trip, I made unfortunate purchases on my way in and out of town. These books do not edify my book shelves and do not lend themselves to repeat reading so I exiled them to my local library.

My library will either barcode the donations and put them on the shelves as "honorbacks" or try to sell them at a deeply reduced price ($0.50-$1.00) at their resale shop. I knew the library would accept donations but not having donated before I had to approach a librarian for assistance.

(My interactions with librarians are infrequent since I use the automatic check-out machines almost exclusively.)

The librarian who helped me unload my unfortunate paperbook purchases was, unfortunately, a neighbor. ACK! Color me embarrassed to have to show someone I know, only very slightly, my deplorable taste in reading materials. Linda, whose backyard is kitty corner to mine, was a class act and in no way shape or form indicated disgust in my offerings. In fact, she kindly mentioned that with summer coming up such titles will be very welcome and popular.

After leaving the library, I drove out to the bayshore to walk Miss M.

My little community sits on the San Francisco Bay. There is a lovely walking path along the bayshore. Here are the gorgeous flowers that grow along the path. This plant is ubiquitous in Califnornia. I'm not much of a botanist so I'm not sure what this plant is although I can say with a fair amount of certainty that it's a succulent of some kind.

Despite the crazy wind, M. and I were having a fairly pleasant walk until I witnessed the carnage.

Across the street, four punk boys - maybe 10-12 years old - were biking along the sidewalk. M. and I watched in horror as one punk rammed his bike into a planter. I'm fairly sure it was a mistake. I don't think he meant to crash into the planter. Hello immovable object! But crash into it he did and in a classic example of Newton's first law of physics, the bike stopped moving but the punk did not. He landed, with quite a jolt, right on the top tube. Even I winced in agony on his behalf. My immediate diagnosis was testicular torsion - poor guy. While he was bent over wincing, dry heaving, and holding himself, his thoughtful, caring fellow punks rode off hooting and hollering. I was resolved to running across the street and giving the punk some help.

This, of course, is a remnant from my own childhood. Unlucky kids, who experienced medical trauma while out playing, had to push their bikes home bleeding and limping when disaster befell them far afield.

However, as I steeled myself to have a very, very awkward conversation with the punk, said punk whipped out his cell phone and called his parents for help! Cheater!

The punk limped off down the street, pushing his bike, as he talked to his parents and asked for a pick-up. Apparently mobile and already on the phone asking for assistance, I decided he didn't need my inexpert help. I wish the punk well. I hope you are OK, buddy.

As I finished my walk, the final, and possibly oddest thing happened while I was on my way back to the car.

A woman on the path had paused during her walk and appeared to be taking pictures of the violently wind tossed bay.

(I already mentioned it was windy, didn't I?)

Anyway, she had set down her pack to lean over the retaining wall to get a better angle for her pictures. It looked like she was also walking a dog who was tied up next to her. However, as I got closer to her, it turns out she wasn't walking a dog.

She was walking a cat. Honestly.

PS Who knows where the post title comes from?