Farewell to a Good Friend

I have never been a cat person. But one of the very few cats I ever liked was Scout. Our friendship might have been spurred along in the early going by the fact that he belonged to the cute redhead I was dating. But my relationship with Scout eventually evolved from "having an understanding" to being friends.

We laid Scout McKain to rest this morning in the fields in front of our home. Scout, a white and orange barn cat and the most senior pet in our household, was an indoor cat until he moved to this house in Richmond. From then on, he passed hours in these fields chasing mice -- and entire days gazing across them from windowsills.

All of our pets visited Scouts in his final hours -- something Alison and I were unable to do; Scout passed while we were away on vacation. No doubt the one who will miss him the most is Ali. Ali and Scout were teammates and friends for the last 15 years. They lived together in at least 8 houses in a minimum of 5 towns and 3 states. She grew up with Scout -- another reason he and I became friends. He paved the way for three more pets in our household. He was a top-rate mouser even in his final days.

I have enjoyed hearing about all of Alison and Scout's adventures together, and I will always remember him as a good cat and a great friend.

Thanks for 15 great years, Scout. We will miss you.

Explosion

Just when it seemed that 2011 was going to go down as a bad foliage year, things changed. In three days, the colors went from "brownish" and "dull" to "brilliant" and "radiant." It has been an explosion of color.

You never know when the foliage is going to peak. Thousands of leaf-peepers were treated to amazingly warm Columbus Day weekend temperatures, but the colors were not so great. I, for one, hiked two peaks in the Presidentials. Beautiful weather. Great hike. But the colors? They were, well, okay. Maybe it was the damp summer, everyone said. Maybe Irene had something to do with it.

Just three days later, however, the hillsides and forests of northern Vermont are just like they're supposed to be. Add to the dramatic turn of events a week of sunny weather that has made the leaves shine that much more.

Fall is all around us, and we know what that means. Pretty soon, the leaves will be on the ground, November will be on us... and winter will be just around the corner.

Business Trip

"This trip is all business."

That's what Kristen Courcelle said as we embarked on a journey to Portland, Maine to run the Maine Marathon this weekend. What did she mean by "all business"? Kristen has been on an incredible athletic streak for the last year. After squeaking her way into a Boston qualifying marathon one year ago yesterday, Kristen has run every event she has entered faster than her last. Regardless of distance or discipline, she has notched PRs.

Looking ahead, however, she has the New York Marathon in November. Knowing this race is known for being crowded -- and therefore very difficult to run a PR -- she was looking for a marathon to run where she would have a chance to extend The Streak.

Meanwhile, I have been looking for a Fall marathon. Heading into winter -- the season when my running usually falls off -- I wanted to get my marathoning back on track. After qualifying for Boston two years ago, I have turned in several marathons that were lower than my expectations. Don't get me wrong... finishing is an accomplishment. Still, it's frustrating when you know you can do better. My goal for the weekend: finish better.

(Also, I didn't really want Kristen to beat me.) Okay, I admitted it.

So with these very business-like intentions in mind, we headed to Portland. And who knew business could be so fun? We stayed with Greg Dolbec, who took care of every need. He got us to a carbo-loading restaurant and provided us with elite-running entertainment in the form of his running friends, who joined us. He also housed us with a beautiful view of the bay.

Except there was no view. Race morning -- in fact, the whole race weekend -- was socked in and miserable. I have never run 26.2 miles in such consistently driving rains. I have to hand it to the race volunteers who were out there all day. I unfortunately tossed aside my favorite running shirt to avoid chafing at Mile 8. (It worked for my chest and armpits; unfortunately I have the worst chafing of my life in other areas...)

The course was a nice out-and-back, although with little fan support and none of the bands and drummers that apparently usually turn out for the event, it was a little boring. And -- not that it was a big deal -- but the clocks and water stops seemed haphazardly placed throughout the course; sometimes you'd have two water stations a half-mile apart and other times you'd go three miles with nothing. The clocks were equally random.

In the end, we both achieved our goals. I ran my best marathon in two years. And Kristen came in shortly thereafter, beating her previous marathon PR by 13 minutes. Something tells me she would have been fine in New York; but because she ran Portland, The Streak may now be in jeopardy.

Heather Jarochym was also on hand to run a highly impressive first marathon. Hopefully she -- and all first-timers who were there -- realize that not all marathons take place in conditions like that!

Thanks to Greg and Katie for hosting us. Thanks to Kristen for making the trip. Thanks to Ali who made me train all summer. And thanks to my legs -- which are now plenty sore, but which carried me back to an acceptable marathon time.

Ultra Runner

Alison Aiken has upped the ante! On Sunday, September 24, Ali joined the ranks of ultra-runners by completing the Vermont 50K. An ultra, as many fans of this blog know, is any race farther than the marathon distance of 26.2 miles. This year's Vermont 50K, in addition to being mostly on trails up and down steep mountains and bottomless valleys, wasn't 50 kilometers at all... organizers admitted in the pre-race meeting that trail changes and diversions caused the race to be more like 32 miles.

Alison didn't just finish the race. She was the 6th placing female and 3rd in her age group. Rumor has it that top finishers in each age group received a prize. We wouldn't know; as Ali wanted to get home to see her beloved New England Patriots on TV, we missed the awards ceremony. Once we get confirmation on the prize situation, I may be heading out to the store to buy her my own prize.

I'm that proud of her.

Update: Newly released official race results tell us that Alison actually placed SECOND in her age group. Wow! And her 6th place finish is out of 70 women. Dang, girl, when did you get so fast? Also, to clarify, we left before the awards because it was too hot.

Horror-Fascination

Dogs do not like cleaning tools.

I know, because -- more often than some might think (or believe) -- I use the broom and vacuum around here. Items that I sweep and vacuum up are (by volume) dog hair and dirt. Before we got Gladys, the swept-up dog hair was yellowish-white in color, but with her introduction to the household, it has taken on a greyish hue. The dirt has always been -- and remains -- brown.

Anyway, as soon as I start sweeping, our dogs are nervous. Oscar lays down, but he does not rest; his eyes just follow the broom. Gladys has a horror-fascination. She's afraid, but the broom just keeps drawing her in. Often it almost comes in contact (due to her habit of standing right where I need to sweep); when that happens, she panics and leaps aside.

The vacuum is even more traumatic. Oscar knows I only use the vacuum on the blanket, yet he lays on the blanket until I have to get under his spot. Then he'll move to a spot very close in proximity to the newly vacated place. Gladys, meanwhile, is scared to death of the thing, but she can't look -- or move -- away.

Here's my take. I don't like brooms or vacuums either. But if you're that scared, why not steer clear?

Mosquito Update

They are not getting better; if anything, they're getting more vicious.

The word around the neighborhood -- and this comes from people who aren't necessarily in love with the cold -- is that if this is how it's going to be, they'd rather just get on with winter.

Whatever happens, we definitely need the temperatures to drop to "below acceptable" mosquito levels. This is just out of control.

Mosquitos Like Tie Fighters

I don't hear Alison swear very often. But I can't repeat the words she uttered after standing outside with me for 2 minutes this evening.

Not on this blog anyway.

Hurricane Irene has caused great havoc here in northern Vermont. But one effect that nobody anticipated was hoards of blood-thirsty mosquitos breeding and rising in the damp muck left by receding floodwaters.

Today I spent the afternoon moving wood. It was a beautiful warm September day. Ordinarily, preparing my woodpile in September evokes warm and toasty thoughts and images. Usually, while I work, I'll think of warm fires, slow-cooking stews, and chili in front of a Sunday football game. Not today. Today was all about swarming mosquitos in my eyes and ears and biting me through two shirts. They were vicious, and it was intense out there.

Let me be clear: I am putting this out to all mosquitos, friend or foe. Don't come near me or suffer the consequences. Any buzzing mosquito within my reach -- whatever your intentions -- I will swat. And I swat to kill.

Consider yourselves warned, bugs.