Gallimaufry

If Polamalu’s injury prevents him from playing tomorrow, I refuse to watch the SuperBowl. Not that I’m rooting for the Steelers- heavens no. I just want to see it when somebody finally yanks him around by the hair.

Travis called my cell phone at 2:00 p.m. today and said in a grave tone, “I have bad news. The plants died.”

“Huh?” I’m panicking, wondering: Grandpa’s dragon tree? My date palm? The spindly fichus I nursed back to health after Frankie almost killed it dragging it up here from City Hall last January? I almost asked, “All of them?” How could they have died in two days? Everybody looked fine when I watered Thursday.

“Yeah, we lost a breaker and it reset the UPS (uninterrupted power supply); we’ve got things pretty much back under control in the new plant, but just so you know, Gary will be up tomorrow morning to put everything back on the old plant SCADA. Oh, and stay off the U.V. stairs until daylight. I almost broke my neck this morning.”

“Oh, those plants. Okay.” Actually, he talked for ten minutes about the power crash and his clever diagnosis (involving several complicated meters he’s not supposed to mess with and a spectacular power arc), but the above is all he really needed to say.

M and I ran to the Valley last night (Friday) to watch Britan’s halftime show at the varsity basketball game, which is always well attended. (There’s not much to do in Bridger Valley.) Seven-year-olds have got no groove. I love how Britan is always a head taller and considerably wider than anybody her age, even when you discount the ever-present confection of bows and curls on her head. She may be All Girl, but she takes right after her 6-foot-something, 300 lb. dad. (She’s left me black and blue several times just playing dolls, and when we go to Bear Lake she likes to use me as a surfboard. I may be able to hold my breath for a long, long time, but I bruise easily.)

The Mountain View Buffaloes were handing the Jackson Broncos their posteriors when we had to leave right after Bit’s show because we had to go to Kemmerer to retrieve Cordale from his bleeping clueless mother. He talked non-stop on the drive home, but I almost stumped him in 20 Questions with “Grizzly Bear.” Then he almost got us with “Camel.” He cheats, though- you have to pick animals. Otherwise I’d have used my secret weapon: “Four-Leafed Clover.” Nobody ever gets that one. Morgan stumped us with “Ferret.”

I walked into City Hall the other day and nearly had a heart attack. Somebody talked Jo into dying her short steel-grey waves a saucy burgundy, and she looks like Lucille Ball might have at 60. It’s fantastic. I’ll see if I can get her to pose for the Olympus sometime. All I know is, it’s going to go over really well at Kate’s.