Cats suck.

Having recently cleaned up the sun porch where the family cat lives, I have come to the conclusion that I will not buy a cat. The room was full of so much cat dander, cat hair, hidden fur balls, puke, and dead rotting mice carcasses, that I nearly lost my lunch, and at one point or another, my will to live. Who ever said cats are clean is a liar. Sure, maybe they keep themselves clean, but that's it. That is why I will at some point get a dog instead of a cat (probably when I move out of my parents' basement).

This will be my dog:

The Morning After

Today is like the morning after. The streets are quiet, the drunks are still konked out, and the merriment has subsided. We had to take out the trash and do the laundry and tidy things up a bit to leave the cabin this morning, and now I'm just idling by the Silver Maple again, waiting for the load of laundry to finish a block down the street. The vendors are mostly still asleep, and having already bought a Hawaiian backpack and some books from the library, I think I've done my duty.

Among the books I purchased were biographies of James Dean, Winston Churchill, Benjamin Disraeli, and Henry Kissinger. I also got a book on Australia circa 1968 (I don't think much has changed since then - well, that's not true, but it had cool pictures). The books cost five dollars in total, and the backpack cost fifteen dollars. I needed to buy the books to fill the backpack. Made perfect sense. Oh, and I bought a photograph of the Bridgeport valley with the sawtooth ridge in the background. That will be shipped to me, and in a week will cost me forty bucks, but it's signed and I'll put it in my room or office. The lady who sold me the picture is from Lemoore, California, just fifteen minutes or so west of Visalia where my Dad grew up and around which most of my family lives. So, the world grows smaller.

I have no real anecdotal irreverence this morning, but I'll fill your basket or bucket soon.