Things that made me laugh today, Estes Park edition:
“Do you want to see a moose?”
Not something I would expect to hear in my previous life in suburbia, so it prompted me to jump out of bed, throw on some semblance of clothes and cloak, and streak out the door. Yes, I saw said moose, only my second real-life spotting, and took a few pictures from a safe distance. I posted a shot on social media, and received a few responses questioning my moosie identification skills.
It is, I admit, very unusual to see moose in my neck of the woods, we are at such high elevation, and no nearby lake or stream, where moose tend to hang out. And yes, it was a distant pic, due to universally acknowledged and duly documented moosoidal unpredictability. But, um, have you ever seen a moose? They are fairly recognizable … This does make me laugh, though, as moose are called “elk” in Europe. So what do they call elk?* Must google.
I returned home to discover a scene of utter panic. Not just one, but two! microscopic spiders were hanging out on the vaulted ceiling. My sons and Hubs are all afflicted with powerfully unhealthy doses of arachnophobia, so I am always the designated spider wrangler. I looked up, squinted my eyes and tried to coordinate a rescue mission. I’m not really overly Ghandi-esque, but I do try to capture indoor spiders and release them outside, so they can work their way in again, lather, rinse, repeat. As I was plotting and mumbling, contemplating the seemingly insurmountable problem of my stature versus the ceiling height, Son 1 suggested (as he ran down the stairs to safety) I use a broom. Son 2 replied, (as he ran for cover in a bathroom) “Yes, we are humans, we can use tools.” So I killed them. The spiders, not the sons.
In my defense, my slow synapse response regarding the spiders and their subsequent murders can be blamed on the moose. I am a “wake up slowly” person, and don’t really function before my coffee. The moose robbed me of my daily brain-stimulation rituals and hence my usually stellar problem-solving abilities.
Later, while enjoying my first cup of coffee, post moose encounter and spider trauma, Hubs stated, “I think the only two words that could get you to shoot out of bed like that are ‘moose’ and ‘fire.’ ”
Wrong, Smartypants, you forgot “cinnamon rolls.”