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The days of having my own room are gone. My room has now become an office. Tara is setting up her workstation right now. I will make her suffer by playing pearl jam, hehe.
The trip to the Sierra Nevada Mountains is all but a memory except for the large pieces of bark I from a pine I collected which now lay in the yard. The trip is nothing but a memory evoked by photographs I took. The numbness accompanied with dull pain at the tip of my middle finger on my left hand is a constant reminder of slamming that finger in my truck door while stopping in Death Valley on our way back from the trip.
If you haven’t listened to Madonna’s latest album “confessions on a dance floor” you should run out and buy it. It is filled with catching hooks and grooves that make it endlessly entertaining.
It is getting damn cold out in the high desert. We rest at an altitude of about four thousand feet. The sky is clear without a cloud. The humidity is low and the temperature is 43F. The low tonight will be 37F. That’s pretty fucking cold. There is nearly always a breeze which makes the matter worse. I will stay inside, thank you. Not like I go out anyways.
Tara has become rodent crazy. She bought a mouse. Now she bought a hamster. I am left with the mouse. So I keep it on the floor in a cage. It keeps the cats entertained. However, what really gets the two turks (the two kittens) crazy are fishies! I buy feeder fish and place them into a large litter box with some rocks. The fish can hid under the rocks or within them because of the tunnels they have. The Turks go crazy fishing for them. They get their feet wet as they wade searching for the fish. When they catch one it is pulled out and eaten raw. Then the Turk goes back for more! It’s great, it’s like TV for the cats.
The reason I hate writing here is because I know what the purpose is. Later I will look back at this and become embarrassed. However, I cannot get to the future with inaction.