Sunday In Boulder

I've been around long enough to know that none of us are immortal - I've lived through the deaths of two grandfathers, my parents, and my husband.  But I have to admit I got a little teary-eyed when I stepped into Paulina's greenhouse this morning and found Courtney, the goldfish, floating on her side in the tank.  I buried her beneath a rose bush.  I took care of Blackberry and Chocolate, and released them from the hutch so that (a) I could clean it out, and (b) they could have 3 hours of freedom inside their large pen.
  Then I sat down and called both of Paulina's parents - I left a message for her mother, but her Dad answered the phone.  I asked if they wanted me to try and find a goldfish that looked approximately like Courtney at Petco, or did they want to have the "death discussion" with her - it was up to them.  Her Dad said they'd "just deal with it when they got home."  As far as I know, Paulina hasn't had any family or friends die in her short 8 years of life.  Her parents are allergic to both cats and dogs, and Blackberry and Chocolate the bunnies, were her first pets.  They arrived for Easter this year.  Then she won Courtney at the Boulder Creek Fair on Memorial Day weekend.  In my experience, the goldfish one won from the fair usually didn't live more than a few days - Paulina has had Courtney for 9 weeks.  Ouch.  Courtney was fine at 8 p.m. last night, when I gave her three flakes of food; but she was dead at 6 a.m.   - I feel guilty, even though I shouldn't.
   Waiting for the bus to pick me up and bring me home from Paulina's this morning, I was bored, because I had forgotten to bring a book to read.  Then I realized there was a bike race going on a block from where I was standing.  In the 20 minutes I waited for the bus, I counted 637 bike riders go by...  I wonder how many entered the event?
   With all the storm warnings last night, all Boulder got was high winds and about a quarter-inch of rain.  But 8 tornadoes were reported in the county, and 2 1/2-inch hail fell.  Trees were uprooted, and empty 18-wheeler trailers were flipped... It was a mess.