Early this morning--really the dead of night--as I tossed and turned with my scurrilous and angst-filled insomnia, there came a sound like...a fleet of helicopters, or a plague of locusts, or possibly an alien invasion. It was an endless refrain of whoop whoop whoop that I could in no way identify.
I got up, went downstairs to check the furnace, came back up and checked the fridge, the microwave, the oven, the dishwasher. I looked under the sink in the kitchen and both bathrooms in case it was some kind of weird broken pipe/water issue. The whole time I was searching for an answer whoop whoop whoop filled my head.
It's 4:30 in the morning at this juncture, and conceivably I could be the only person aware that aliens are launching an imminent planetary takeover. No question, the sound was coming from somewhere outside. I went out on the back deck in my pajamas and bare feet and nearly froze in the blast of ice cold wind roaring up from the valley floor. The whoops were louder now, even over the wind and my chattering teeth, but still, I couldn't place the clamor or understand what could possibly be making such a racket at that hour of the night.
I went back to bed, but the constant drone wasn't in the least conducive to sleep. Eventually I must have dozed off, but when I woke up at 7:00 the noise was still there. I went outside again, and finally figured out where it was coming from.
A few years ago the farmer who owned most of the valley below my house, sold his acreage to a winery. They have toiled and shaped, planned and plowed. The tiny little rows of future grapes are just beginning to sprout. And the temperatures have plummeted into the low 30s.
The windmills generate the necessary hot air to keep the frost at bay. This is a shot of just two windmills, there are over two dozen down there. The force of that dozen, the quiet of the night, and the peculiar acoustics that allow sound to rise up the side of my mountain made for a very puzzling, disturbing non-sleep. Like insomnia isn't bad enough...
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I went out to lunch with my neighbor Bunny today; she was the one who told me what the windmills actually do. I thought they were watering things, but she said instead of the old-time smudge pots, now growers use these windmills when heat is needed.
And here's a bit of news that made my day: Remember the horrid tribe family and the guy who threatened me awhile back? Bunny told me the couple are divorcing, the mean evil man has already moved back to Arizona (I would have thought Appalachia) and the rest of the tribe have relocated to another part of town. Their house will be either rented or sold. I frankly don't care what happens to the house; it's just such a relief they are off the mountain. Later tonight I will raise my glass to thank the gods of Deliverance.
After lunch we went to Sports Authority, which has just opened up in the town mall, so I could look at a treadmill. It's not that I'm overweight, it's more that I don't want to be overweight in the future, and I've decided I'm not getting enough exercise, no matter that I'm hiking with the dogs twice a day. My dogs aren't exactly the kind that induce serious weight loss. They stop at every blade of grass, nose every stone, pebble and rock, pee on whatever strikes their fancy and totally ignore me as I grouse in abject frustration, "Come oooooonnnnnnn!"
So, here and there over this past week, I've done some hardcore research and found the perfect treadmill. Not only was it on sale at a great discount, but when it's delivered next week, I won't have to haul it up two flights of stairs by myself. I'm marginally excited--it's exercise, peeps. How excited can I really get?--and I will now be able to walk continuously (with four different inclines and six exercise programs) without stopping or starting every three and half seconds. I hope.
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I'm falling behind, big time, with my 1000 Cranes project. I've had 40 in the first stage of folding for the past two weeks and just haven't found the time to finish them. It's going to be April very soon and I have over 800 cranes left to do by the end of the year. Yikes. That's a daunting thought.
I know part of my problem is reading. Not that I find that a problem in any way, but lately it seems there has been a veritable ocean of books that I've been compelled to read and everything else falls to the wayside. If it's not authors whose work I love, than it's authors I've just discovered. Were I to have any kind of addictive personality, it would be over books. The BFF and I have talked often and long about too many books, too little time.
And on the note...
It's Friday afternoon, chores done, dogs napping, 500 Mile chai brewing and a good book awaits...
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