Thursday, December 31, 2015


An owl was hooting near my window before dawn this morning. It was a cold, raw, dreary, misty day. 

The unseasonable warmth has vanished. 73 degrees (Fahrenheit) last week, 38 degrees today. I savored the warmth, but somehow the frigid change is a festive accent on this New Year's Eve.

It's just after 4:30 p.m. as I'm writing this and it's already nearly dark. My trio of cats are sleeping. A peaceful respite.
My plans for tonight? I'll welcome the new year with solitude and a midnight dinner by candlelight. Alaskan salmon.
The glorious New Year's Eves of my past are gone. I was going to write about some of them but will save it for a future post.

I have no intention of summarizing the events of this past year, but I'll give a brief recap of this week:

Drove into town on Tuesday and stocked up on groceries.

That's it. Blissfully brief.

 Scratch (also known as Kitzee)

The only other excitement was generated by my 10 yr. old cat Scratch. She's the oldest of my feline brood and was exclusively an indoor cat. Lately however, I've been letting her outside to get fresh air and exercise. She was getting overweight and had asthma, but her health has greatly improved since she's been romping outdoors.

Unfortunately, her personality has changed for the worst. Ever since gaining her newly-found freedom she never wants to come inside. And she's become demanding and rude. I've created a monster.

Yesterday I completed a project that I've been wanting to do for a long time: I enclosed the underside of the back porch. It was very easy for wild creatures to get under there (that's where the 'possum used to live) and I didn't like it.

It took me over an hour to completely seal it, but it was snug tight - nothing could get under the porch now. I was relieved.....

.....until I heard scratching sounds and muffled grunts of frustration coming from beneath the porch.

You guessed it. Scratch was under there, completely sealed in. I was almost tempted to leave her there permanently, but eventually I painstakingly pried out the nails and removed one of the panels to let her out.

Deja vu
A few months ago, the same thing happened to Scruffy, when I accidentally sealed her under the house after checking the water pipes. I vowed that it would never happen again. 

 Scruffy, looking deceptively innocent
I named her Scruffy because I initially thought she was a boy. My observant cousin told me "He's a female".....Heck, what do I know?

Want another cat story?
Waddaya mean, "no"?
This afternoon I let Scratch outside, while I ate lunch. I normally never eat lunch, but I had some smoked ham and Swiss cheese so I thought I'd make a sandwich. 

I'm halfway through the sandwich when I hear frantic scratching at the back door. I open it and Scratch runs in making frightening guttural sounds. I think she's dying. 

She runs around the house growling, then quickly drops a mouse at my feet. She brought the damn thing in from outside!

The rodent was still living and I felt sorry for it's plight. I scooped it up and took it back outside - far from the house. 

My two female cats, Scratch and Scruffy, provide all the excitement around here. Bosco, the male, is timid, polite, and well-behaved. Well, all except for the time he jumped on my head when I was sleeping and accidentally bashed my face (that was recounted in a previous blog post).


I'm going to take a brief nap before making my midnight dinner and ushering in the new year.

I want to thank all the kind people who take the time to read my blog. It's rewarding to know that my efforts are appreciated....or at least politely tolerated.

Have a fantastic 2016!  

Wednesday, December 30, 2015


My recent post Christmas Music to Treasure was so inspiring that I decided do a sequel. I dug around in the putrid bowels of the record archives and found some albums that are certain to enhance your New Year celebrations. Especially if you're soused.

Be forewarned that some of my comments are caustic and cruel. Crudeness is one of the few traits I inherited from my father that I'm proud of.

By the way - if you don't know what a record album is, you're too damn young to be reading this blog. 

 The last time I heard that sentiment, it was from a male hustler on Santa Monica Blvd.

.....and when it leaves, some of your kids will be missing....

What's next??
Elephant shit and a terminated recording contract.

Dick has an extra long.....accordion...for the ladies (note: no sexual connotations are intended).

Don't sweat it - some of them are only pretending

...and flattened the top of my head

Call a tow truck!
Cajka crushed the car!

Look at the bright side - he'll never have to worry about getting old and losing his looks.

I did, too, until I saw your album cover

Only in your dreams, sister
I smell a lawsuit

It's not from God - - it's from your parole officer kill my hairdresser

 The wardrobe malfunction is the least of his problems. There's a can of Campbell's Soup wedged in his crotch.

.....and in the closet 

Jesus loves me.....
Only when you're not singing, Marcy

 when hell freezes over

Woofy-Woof, sweetums!

Pssst, Gunther!

the sunshine girls just left through the back exit!

By the way, Gunt - you should lose the John Waters mustache.

Kinda makes Gunther look good, doesn't it?

...and you did - - shortly after the release of this album 

Honey, climax won't be shining anywhere near you......

trees talk.....
And we can only
 hope they will be silenced soon by a roving band of demented lumberjacks

 It's too late

Sunday, December 27, 2015


In order to pique the interest of potential readers, I have resorted to the cheap ploy of using unusual blog post titles. Hell, I've tried effusive writing techniques, music videos, secret confessions, humor, and sex. Mysterious titles are less emotionally taxing (for me).

So, what exactly does an excursion in a facsimile of spring mean, Jon?

Think, Tonto, think.
 It means that I took advantage of the springlike weather today and went on a mountain hike.

Took advantage of the weather?

Hey, weather isn't the only thing I ever took advantage of - but we don't want to go there. Respectable people read this blog. Or some of them are, anyway.

Enough preliminaries. Let's cut to the chase.
I woke up this morning in bad shape. Some sort of a stomach virus, and severe spasms in my back.

Old age??

The bad back is from when I fell on the ice down the friggin' mountainside last winter. As a permanent result, I now very often hobble around like a spastic version of Quasimodo.

This morning, it was worse. I not only hobbled, I performed unethical variations of the Turkey Trot, the Charleston, the Mambo, and the Rumba. My cats were appalled.

When I was finally able to maintain a reasonable vertical position, I noticed that the December weather was as warm as spring. I opened the windows. I ventured outside (it was a painful venture, but I ventured nevertheless).

A strong, warm wind was singing high in the trees. The temperature was in the 70's (that's Fahrenheit). The opportunity to seize the day was irresistible.

I popped a few aspirins, swigged some Pepto Bismol, put on my hiking boots, and ventured out into the mountain wilderness.

Isn't it more like a hill where you live, Jon?

One more wisecrack, Bucko, and you'll have to have my Pepto Bismol bottle extracted from your....

Whoa, Jonathan! No need to get physical.

Heck, when I lived in the Missouri Ozarks, the locals called 50 foot hills "mountains". I told them I had seen bigger nipples than their so-called mountains. They didn't laugh.


So, today I enjoyed this absolutely glorious afternoon in the wonderfully peaceful wilderness. I didn't fall and I didn't have any panic attacks. It was a momentous occasion.

 A distant view of the "mountain" on which I live. I took this pic today.

I, of course, came home covered in stickers and burrs, bitten by insects, and caked in mud. But it was a delightful excursion, nevertheless. 

I'm especially glad that I went - after seeing the extended weather forecast. Severe storms are expected tomorrow (Monday) and very cold weather is predicted by New Year's Eve.

I'll write more about New Year's Eve later....

All of my recent photos are drab and completely uninteresting, but I decided to inflict some of them on you nevertheless.

 Two views of my cat Scratch (also known as Kitzee) out in the weeds

The far side of my property, facing east. Beyond these trees is the meadow where the cows reside.
(isn't this exciting?)

The south-western part of my property
(all photos were taken today)

Friday, December 25, 2015


Christmas is just about over. Now, don't you feel foolish for working your ass off putting up those decorations and emptying your piggy bank buying gifts?

Aw, settle down. I only said that to cause an adverse reaction. It's one of my specialties.

Some blessed Christmas spirit must have pimped my recent post Christmas Music to Treasure, because it got over 250 views in only a few hours (you can find it somewhere on the sidebar).
Heck, usually my blog posts only get about 3 views in 250 years. I don't know why my readership is so low. I'm damn good.
Look carefully and you'll find a bitter hint of sarcasm.

Anyway, whoever the Christmas spirit is, I hope they'll do it again. And again.

My previous Christmas Eve post is long and tediously intricate. Readers don't like that. They don't want to waste precious time pondering. And I don't blame them. But I love to go on a sentimental ramble now and then.

The above photo was taken in my back yard at sunset on Christmas Eve. Just in case you cared. It was a glorious sunset.

So how was your Christmas, Jon?

I thought you'd never ask.
Let's begin with Wednesday night, the 23rd. I laid down on my bed rather early, just to read. Somehow I fell asleep, book in hand. I was sleeping heavily when the ringing telephone literally jolted me out of a dream.

It was an automated call, saying that the county I live in was under a tornado watch. That's nerve-wracking news when you're half-asleep and half-naked (I threw the half-naked part in just to pique your interest).

The wind was already howling outside, so I hurriedly got dressed and exchanged a few texts with my cousin Nancy - - until my cell phone service was lost. That happens quite often way out here in the sticks.

The storms moved in quickly and it was one helluva night, but no serious damage around here.

The foul weather cleared out on Thursday and Christmas Eve was absolutely gorgeous. And unseasonably warm! It was over 70 degrees (Fahrenheit) and stayed nearly that warm all night. A beautiful moon and a strong, eerie wind. 

By dawn on Christmas Day, clouds moved in and storms began rumbling. It rained in a torrential downpour nearly all day.

When I went to bed (on Christmas Eve) I slept in blissful, undisturbed peace - which is rare. Usually my HellChild cat Scruffy runs around the house and periodically jumps on the bed to rudely wake me.
Even my other cat Bosco was absent.

It wasn't until around 10:00 a.m. Christmas morning - when it was pouring rain - that I happened to open the front door. A soaking-wet Scruffy stumbled in. She had been outside all night. I have no clue how she got out. 

The amazing thing is that Bosco (who usually stays all night on my bed) spent the night by the front door - waiting for Scruffy to come in! 

So where was your old cat Scratch, Jon?

Scratch usually stays out of the way and minds her own business.

I know, long cat stories are boring - which might be why my readership is low. I could tell about my erotic encounter with Santa Claus, but I'll save it for my memoir.

I had a peaceful, uneventful, very rainy Christmas. When the rain stopped in late afternoon the hunters came out. I heard nearby gunshots for quite awhile.

It is now about 6:00 in the evening as I'm writing this. Another storm is in progress and it's raining hard again.
I've rounded up the cats and took a head count, just to be safe.

Now I'm going to take a brief nap and then have a very late dinner (I love peaceful midnight meals).

I hope your Christmas was fantastic - - or at least tolerable.

Wednesday, December 23, 2015


I usually reserve my inane visual posts for my other blog Cabinet of Curious Treasures 
but today I'll make an exception.

In the spirit of the holiday season I'm offering some Christmas record albums that are certain to warm your heart.

 You won't thank me when it shits in your hands.

I initially thought these were two dudes, until I looked closely and saw that they're wearing June Cleaver strands of faux pearls

What's worse than a singing Santa?
A singing Santa with accordion accompaniment 

Looks more like Christmas in Chicago

.....and that's exactly where Dinkins belongs....

Looks like too much of a good thing

I'm making these captions up very quickly as I go along, without any thought....and it's painfully  obvious.....

 Those front teeth aren't the only problems- - this kid needs an ophthalmologist

 A finger-licking, grease-dripping Christmas

no comment necessary

It's rather ironic that Twitty rhymes with shitty

Hanged for the holidays - - and not a moment too soon.

Finally! An album that my cats can relate to!

Trust me - - you'll need the wine......

The innocence of a candy cane has been forever expunged......

I've actually been in Tijuana on Christmas (no kidding). It's thirty years later and I still haven't fully recovered.

Glad tidings from Mrs. Mills.
Dear Lord, I'd rather be in Tijuana.

.....not to mention a bad album......

Cody, you can't borrow anything. I'm not answering the door.

Now I've seen everything.
Shoot me.

I can't wait to hear the brass version of Away in a Manger.

Last, but certainly not least

I'll have a new post on my other blog later today (probably much later). It's presently dawn and I haven't been to bed yet. I'm too tired to function.

Come to think of it - - I can hardly function even when I get sleep......