Maybe this is a good indication of my attitude toward technology. I love the idea that I can access the Seattle Public Library's catalog via the internet. Without even putting on my shoes, I can look up a book, find out if the library has it, where all the copies are, put a copy on hold, tell the library at which branch I want it held, and then receive an email when it arrives. From the comfort of my home, I can do all the routine stuff like check on the status of my holds, renew books, or reserve a computer. In contrast, I don't like the library's self-checkout system. I feel that if I'm going out in public, making a physical trip to the library, I want to have some human interaction. When I check a book out, I want to talk to a librarian, even the librarians at the Capitol Hill branch - the most unfriendly librarians in town. (My friend Barbara, a Seattle Public Library employee and Capitol Hill resident agrees with me about the unfriendliness.) The problem is, I don't get a choice - only in cases of physical handicap will a librarian check a book out for you.

Part of this attitude is my sensitivity to the employment that such technology eliminates. I refuse to use QFC's self-service grocery checkout.

Part of it is my overall distrust of technology in general. Every month, I make a hardcopy printout of this blog. I made a backup file of the last (digital) photographs of Gladys this morning. Soon, I will order hardcopy prints.

We buried Gladys Night this morning, near Big Cedar - a spot very special to us. She was buried in a round bone box, with inlaid patterns, that Phillip picked out. The bottom of the box was lined with lavender and Gladys' favorite almonds. The inside of the lid was decorated with a picture I drew of Gladden, Squeak, Phillip, and me looking in on her.

For the past two days, I've been reading Live And Let Die - the second "James Bond" novel.

It is an entertaining, well-written book, but I am bothered (bothered very much) by the condescending racism in it. I'm on page 084 of 229, and if I make it through to the end, it will be by keeping in mind that it was written in 1954.

James Bond movies have long been a guilty pleasure of mine. Part of the fun of discovering the novels is finding things I'd never see the movie Bond doing. For instance, James Bond and Felix Leiter go nightclubbing (on assignment) - in a New York Transit bus!

Gladys Night died this morning, sometime between 7 and 7:30. I wish that Phillip and I would have been with her, but I am glad that she was in familiar surroundings, with Gladden and Squeak, when she went. I am glad that Gladden and Squeak know what happened - that Gladys didn't just disappear one day.

Reading Pet's blog entry today, the one about waste, made me realize that we'd been thinking along similar lines this morning. It wasn't the radio for me - it was the news on TV. There was a story about inventors who are working, independently, on developing personal flying craft, like on The Jetsons or The Fifth Element.

Personally, I think it's an unlikely future, but these inventors disagree. "You believe that, one day, there will be thousands of commuters flying to work?" asked the reporter, "Or, maybe tens of thousands?" "Hundreds of thousands," corrected one inventor. What bothered me the most about the story, and bothered me for a long time, was the reasoning behind these inventions. "Our freeways are reaching gridlock," the story reported, "And there's no more room to build more roads. These inventors are working on the solution."

So, we're taking up too much space by driving single passenger vehicles to work. What should we do? Use space more efficiently? Move more people in less space? Make commutes shorter? No, of course not. Find more room for more single passenger vehicles!

We spent most of Memorial Day with Gladys. She's having trouble sleeping, and she takes a lot of comfort in being held by us. Gladys "Don't Touch Me" Night is now enjoying being held and stroked. She's wasting away fast. She doesn't eat much. She's having trouble with both back legs and doesn't have much strength in her tail.

We heard from the veterinarian today. He'd been misinformed. The test results will take a week (not a day) to come back. We wonder if we should let Gladys wait that long.

It's difficult to tell how Gladden and Squeak are taking this. Gladys has always seemed to prefer the company of humans than them. Now Gladys is getting the majority of our attention. Sometimes it seems like Gladden and Squeak are trying to prevent Gladys from climbing into bed with them - but I'm not sure if that's really what's going on.

I had planned to go to Folklife yesterday. It's something I do every year. Phillip's not into it, much, so it's something I do on my own. Then, on Friday, we realized that we had to get Gladys to the vet's office. Phillip called and learned that the vet's office had no openings for appointments on Saturday. We could, however, drop Gladys off and a veterinarian could take a look at her whenever they had some free time. I'm very impressed with the Bird & Exotic Clinic of Seattle. With a pet as rare as a sugar glider, we don't have a wide choice of clinics, but we did find a good one.

I was going to skip Folklife, at least on Saturday - after all, it runs through Monday. Phillip had another idea. He suggested that I take Gladys to the vet's office the first thing in the morning, then I should go to Folklife. Phillip would wait by the phone and pick up Gladys. The receptionist told me that Gladys would probably be ready sometime mid-morning.

Maybe it was selfish of me to go to Folklife while Gladys was sick, or maybe it was good for Phillip to have some time alone.

I left the cell phone with Phillip when I left to catch the 8 bus to Seattle Center. I'd transferred our main phone to the cell phone so that Phillip wouldn't miss the call if he was still in bed.

I had a good time at Folklife - I always do. This year, I had Gladys on my mind, so I didn't enjoy it as much as previous years. I called Phillip from a pay phone at 12:30, between Garrett & Westcott's eclectic folk and blues performance and Na Leo O' Hawaii. There was still no word from the clinic.

The band on my favorite Swatch - the one I bought in Portland - broke sometime during the day. I must have hit it against something, because the plastic is broken in three places. I may be able to glue it back together.

I went to a wonderful, inspiring djembe workshop at 1:30. When it was over, at 3:00, I phoned Phillip again. The veterinarian had taken x-rays, but hadn't looked at them yet. I wandered around Folklife a while, but the crowds had started to get overwhelming - that happens every year.

I got home sometime between 4:30 and 5:00. Phillip wasn't home. I waited impatiently.

When Phillip and Gladys got home, I asked Phillip what the vet had told him. Phillip wouldn't answer me, at first. I knew then that it was cancer. Phillip finally burst out crying, and I knew Gladys wouldn't be with us much longer.