National Day of Mourning
My balcony Friday, September 15, 2001.
My balcony Friday, September 15, 2001.
Clueless may be home, but for a cat with a history of gourmandizing, he’s amazingly uncooperative at meal times. If left to his own devices, he’ll only eat a few kibbles and then wander off in search of a better place to sleep. Warrior Princess and The Grey Menace now bolt their food and then…
It seems like I end up reinventing myself in prime years. I think, at the start of life, everyone does that. Age thirteen is the start of that gray zone where you begin in earnest to move from childhood towards adulthood. You hit nineteen and find yourself embarking on the first truly official adult years….
*sigh* I feel like somebody’s raining on my parade. Fury22 and doppelganger have both added music to their diaries. This means I can no longer risk opening those at work. (Before anyone tells me to simply turn off my sound, I need to leave it on because I need incoming mail alerts. Not only that,…
Nothing like another birthday to get a person all maudlin and introspective. Year sixty-one wasn’t too bad. The world only outright tried to kill me once with that heart attack last August, although the broken ankle in March might have been another half-hearted attempt by the fates. Calculating all the near misses in my life…
The Kitten from Hell came through her spay surgery sound as a bell. She’ll be available for pick-up tomorrow. Damn, for all the trouble she causes me, I still love the little dickens. In spite of everything that went wrong today, it is now a good day because KfH is doing fine.
beautiful!
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