When I was young, and the Vietnam war raged, I made the most unlikely friend in a guy named Paul DuCharm. He was in military school with my cousin and was as gung ho a marine and soldier as you can get. I was a peace marcher who sat in front of draft boards and marched on the Pentagon. And yet Paul and I managed to find a way to be friends.
Then he went to Vietnam as a young marine, He died in less than 30 days. Just more cannon fodder. But he’s never been forgotten. And then, last
I guess you just get to an age where you want what’s familiar and all else is just annoying. I made the mistake of going out for a few hours last night. Mr. T is used to me being home in the evening since it’s universally known that I have no social life, preferring a hermit-like existence with my animals. So he did number one downstairs and number two upstairs. I guess that was his way of letting me know with absolute certainty that he was displeased. Since he’s 16, pretty blind and almost completely deaf, I guess I have
This is Frick and Frack, two of my foster birds. They are currently shredding an annoying catalog that is but one of many that comes in the mail all the time. It’s how they earn their kibble around here. They take out my frustration for me on how many trees die so that I can receive catalogs I don’t want that sell items I don’t need at prices I refuse to pay plus shipping which is astronomical because no one believes Alaska is not on the dark side of the moon.
It’s Monday. The circle in front of my house is a frozen sheet of ice. Walking my dog takes the balance of a ballet dancer and the strength of superman just to get to the other side of the street without breaking anything valuable. I went to mail stuff at the post office only to find it closed. My nose hurts. My brain doesn’t want to function and I think I may be losing my fine sense of perspective on life. I should go to Curves but mostly I just want to go back to bed. Tuesday can’t get here
My first dog, Lovey, is somewhat of a legend in certain circles in Barrow. Not only did she live about ten years longer than predicted based on her extensive girth, but she managed to do so with uncommon grace…. and I don’t mean that in the good sense of the words.
Lovey was not particularly enamored of the cold. She felt it was best experienced from the inside of a heated house or car. Actually going out into it was something reserved for those moments when you absolutely could no longer keep your legs crossed for even a second.
In
I saw that special look on my parrot’s face and grabbed him off my Internet connection box right before he let loose with some poop. Note to self: among other things I never want to have to do in life is explain to a GCI repairman that my Internet connection no longer works because of bird doo doo.
