Random thoughts, sappy sentiments, rampant rants, occasional confessions, various variations in remote keys
Showing posts with label talking to myself. Show all posts
Showing posts with label talking to myself. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
WELCOME TO DECEMBER
Well, Jon - how do you feel since Bosco landed on your face?
I feel like dismissing my cats and getting a dog.
I mean, how do you feel physically?
After all the claw marks heal and the swelling goes down and the bruising disappears and my eye stops hurting, I'll probably be back to normal - or as reasonably normal as I get. I have difficulty shaving.
All the injuries are on your left side?
Yea. Now I can only be photographed from my right side. Kinda like Claudette Colbert.
She was only photographed from her left side.
Whatever. Know-it-all.
(sometimes I actually amuse myself)
How's December so far?
Gloomy, wet, and mild. It rained non-stop for the past four days. Early this evening the skies began to clear and cold weather is returning tonight.
Returning from where?
Returning from wherever cold weather goes when it's not in Tennessee.
The above photo is a very distant shot of the mountain on which I live.
It doesn't look very big.
Hey, Bucko, this is Daniel Boone country. I'm not Heidi's grandfather.
I ventured outside this morning and took some photos. I finally bought batteries for my El Cheapo digital camera.
You should really get an Apple iPhone 6S Plus with a 12-megapixel sensor.
Don't bullshit me with fancy tech talk. I'm still trying to figure out how to use my Dick Tracy Bakelite camera.
Why do you always talk to yourself, Jon?
Because I'm the only person I can fully relate to.
This was taken in my back yard at high noon on Wednesday. The sun is too far south to be taken seriously.
Loads of wild birds flew in, stayed about ten minutes, and then left. Probably headed for Jamaica.
Or else they saw my cats roaming around.
Here's Bosco checking out my mower before I put it away for the winter. The damn thing wouldn't start all summer (the mower, not Bosco).
I eventually had to take the whole engine apart. By the time I got it working the weeds were twenty feet high and laughing at the mower.
I don't need a frickin' Weedeater. I need tractors, plows, scythes, a large herd of mountain goats, and Divine intervention.
Here's Scruffy sitting near an ancient ladder. Those aren't pee marks, they're remnants of my wet footprints
So, what's on your agenda for the rest of this first week in December, Jon?
Have to drive into town tomorrow. Big emergency. Last week I forgot to buy the two essentials:
Litter and toilet paper.
The litter is for the cats. The T.P. is for me.
I've thought about training the cats to use the toilet. And I've thought about using the litter box - - but I don't like to share.
Visit my other blog - you won't regret it. Well, not much, anyway.....
http://cabinetofcurioustreasures.blogspot.com
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