self-care, post thanksgiving edition


emmett digs self-care, too.

So the last two days have essentially been spent on the couch with my knitting and Netflix. Sarge and I took a pretty amazing multiple-hour nap yesterday and I managed to unload the dishwasher this morning while the coffee was brewing…progress.

I know you’re reading this wondering if I’m sick, because this level of sloth can maybe only be justified by some sort of illness. And the answer is no, I’m perfectly healthy. This is just my way of recovering from what was (to me) a very busy week. This, dear readers, is my kind of self-care.

I hosted Thanksgiving at my house for the first time since being single, which meant that, starting Sunday, the entire house had to be cleaned (except for under the beds. And of course, the first thing Jax had to do was pull the bed out to plug his phone charger in. SIGH) There was shopping to do and  I’d never roasted a turkey myself, or hosted a holiday gathering on my own. So I attacked it with planning and organization. I had to make a spreadsheet of all of the dishes and their cook times so I knew when to start each thing and what needed to be prepared in advance. I assembled a portfolio of the recipes and thankfully everything turned out pretty well, I think. My SIL made the gravy and oversaw the potatoes and brought the desserts, which helped tremendously, as gravy is not my thing. Of course I didn’t get any pictures. But it was really meaningful to me to be able to have Miss L and her beloved cousin, my brother and sister-in-law, and Jax & Izzy at my house, and have us eat and share the holiday together.

Then, bright and early on Black Friday, Miss L went to her dad’s house, and my childhood bestie Kat arrived as – wait for it – we’d signed up for a HALF MARATHON. And not just any half marathon – a TRAIL half marathon. Now ask me how much training I did for aforementioned half marathon. Goose egg, that’s right.

It was Kat’s first half and she was really excited about it, and although I knew that I was not prepared in any way, shape, or form for a half, I couldn’t bring myself to drop back to a shorter distance or bail on her. The weather was cold, but not frigid, and the trail surface was exceptionally wet and treacherous. Friends, running a trail is different than road running. You are constantly confronted with slippery spots, switchbacks, elevation changes, and terrain issues. There’s no putting in your headphones and going on autopilot. There were slick bridge spots and boulders, and huge mud pits that just had to be run through. The distance ended up being longer than a traditional half, as the course had to re-route past bridges that were out.

I got through the first half on track for a slow but decent finish time, and had a brief but fierce internal debate with myself. My body felt beat to shreds, and I couldn’t imagine how Kat was doing, somewhere behind me. There were aid stations every few miles, but if she got into trouble, I wasn’t sure if there would be anyone around to help her. So I reasoned that time was unimportant for this race, and, somewhat hoping that she would decide to finish early and let us head back to the finish, I  waited at the halfway point for her. I perched at the top of a wooded hill, out of the wind but feeling my warm muscles cooling and clenching in the cold, and chatted with two of the course marshals. They were blown away that someone would choose to do their first half on a trail! When her little winter hat came bobbing up the rise, I knew she was struggling. I told her that we could always cut it short and head the mile back to the finish line, but the marshal told her that she was killing it and her face was determined. NO, she said. Let’s finish it.

So we set out on the second loop. It was a rough six miles, and although we weren’t last to finish, I think we were pretty close. There was a lot of walking. But Kat showed true grit and endurance and honestly, I was really proud of both of us.


Nothing ever looked as good as that finish line.

So that’s why I’ve spent the last two days on the sofa. I finished watching The Crown on Netflix and, cowls all finished, am Log Cabin-ing until my next project comes to me.


If you celebrated, I hope your Thanksgivings were happy and filled with family. If not, I hope you had a greater-than-usual Thursday and are practicing self-care wherever you are, too.


in which i’m away for awhile


I’m simmering down about the election, or perhaps the right way to describe it is ‘becoming resigned’. I’m repulsed and disgusted but not shocked at the people he is choosing to surround himself with – why be shocked when they echo the vile rhetoric he has engaged in throughout the campaign? I’m disgusted but not shocked by his outright lies and spin about things like Ford’s business in Mexico, and terribly distressed about topics like a Muslim registry. I’m resigned to continuing to stand for my beliefs. I know what I’m for and what I’m against, and will continue to try to live it and speak it.

I spent the week in Florida at a resort in the Happiest Place on Earth for a professional Compliance & Ethics seminar and recertification exam. I was initially annoyed at having to be away from home, family & friends, and felines for several days, and at the start, being at Disney without Miss L was a real bummer. It’s so much more fun with her. But in the end, the little break from real life was just what I needed. Truthfully, I viewed this week as a bit of a vacation, since I have gone through this academy before, and passed the exam without much worry. Even the seminar was rejuvenating in its way. As news continues to come in of hate and fear and violence spreading in the wake of the election, it was really nice to sit in a room of like-minded professionals and discuss topics that we are interested in. Things like the intersection of law and ethics, helping our employees understand the bright line of ethical business conduct, and the First Amendment, to name a few. But I have a high tolerance for being alone, I hate networking, and so I spent a lot of time doing solo things. I took naps and went to bed early and got some running mojo back, and wrote. NaNoWriMo was derailed with my extreme emotional reaction to the election, and I’m way behind the pace of 50k words in a month, but I’m over 10k words, and going strong. Full report in a near-future post.

I also took pictures.


evening spent with knitting and tea in my hotel room


a post-seminar drink in the small, quiet hotel bar watching news of winter weather in the northeast



ice cream on the boardwalk


a familiar face on the espn cafe windows❤



enjoying the sunshine on my breaks


and just like that, the elves worked at night and in the morning, the hotels were decked for christmas


an early morning flight home


and back home to miss l and these whiskers

election (part 2 of 2) – in which dan rather tells us not to opt out.

So, Dear Reader, when we left off, I was angry. Maybe you remember.

To continue, the day after the election, after I dropped Miss L off, I cried on the way into work. My eyes watered spontaneously all morning and despite keeping myself locked in my office, I eventually had to slink out to go to the copy machine. My CEO was standing there, looking a bit perplexed and jabbing at some blinking buttons, and asked me somewhat absently what I thought about the outcome – the question I was dreading.

I told him I couldn’t talk about it yet.

He and I go way back, and since the backbone of our discussions is usually a shared sense of humor, I’m sure he thought I was kidding. He laughed and then  saw by the tears trickling down my face that I was serious. I said to him, “I don’t know how to be anything other than sick that we just elected someone that gave the United States free rein to grab my pussy.” (Yes, I said “pussy” to my CEO.) He stopped laughing and then horrified, I apologized.Welp, I thought, now I am fired and have a president that is a pussy grabber. That’s just GREAT.

However, he just laughed again and said that I never needed to apologize to him, that we were friends, and I said, “I’m apologizing because I would never speak to anyone like that, much less a friend,” and he acknowledged my apology. He said somberly, “I owe you an apology, too. I should have seen how upset you were, and not laughed.”
“You didn’t know. It’s okay. Being upset is no excuse to use language that I don’t condone. But I am upset,” I said. “I feel so sad, and I feel unsafe, and I feel as though we now have a president that disrespects and abandons huge portions of the population that are already disenfranchised. I can’t believe that so many people think his rhetoric is okay, or even no big deal. If he even had a plan as to how to go about accomplishing the grandiose things he says he’s going to do, then maybe – JUST MAYBE- I could understand. I know you probably voted for him,” and he interrupted me.
“I didn’t vote for him,” he said, startled. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re a Republican, and very conservative, and you are in a very elite position,” I told him. He shook his head and told me that in fact, he had not voted for him, and had never in his wildest dreams thought that he could win. “I gave a speech in Japan last month, ” he told me, “and I was asked to give my opinion on the US election. I said then that there was no chance that he could be elected.”
“I guess we were both wrong,” I said. “I’m sorry again, for jumping to conclusions.”

My CEO is a working class man who was raised in the Rust Belt by religious, blue collar parents. He started out working in an auto shop when he was thirteen and paid his own way through a second-tier college, where he got an engineering degree. He worked for some major automotive suppliers, both in manufacturing facilities as well as in engineering departments, and is as tough as they come.

I spent years working directly for him in my last position with Widget Central, and he is as tough, disciplined and thorough as they come. If he gave us a task, he would leave us alone to do the work, but he would want to know how we did it, how we got to every number. He would tape slides and charts around his office and pace for hours, absorbing, going over them and over them. He is dogged and unremitting in his work ethic and his expectations not just of himself, but his employees.

And he’s conservative. We debated about a lot of things in the days before his promotion to the C-suite and usually ended up laughing and agreeing to disagree. He called me Lisbeth Salander more than once (which, if you know me, is ridiculous because I’m bland – no mohawk or piercings – maybe he saw through my conservative costume.) But he is also exceptionally courteous, calm, and thoughtful. I’ve never seen him speak out of anger or bully, abuse, or disparage anyone, no matter how angry he is. He weighs his words and treats others with a deep, gracious kindness that is completely unforced – it radiates from him. I remember once having to go into his office to tell him that I had screwed something up. It was a big something. It made him look bad. I was miserable and apologized. And he said to me, “Stop apologizing. You told me up front that you didn’t know how to do it, and I had no choice, I had no one else to do it. I saw you slave over that for hours and yeah, it didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped. But you know what? You tried. You might not know this, but it means something to have an employee that will try their guts out. Sometimes you will fail, but you don’t know how rare it is to have the will to keep trying. I can take a few mistakes, if that’s the case.”

After we parted ways at the copy machine, I realized that I had unfairly judged him out of the anger and the grief in my heart. I’d assumed that I knew him, his values, and his reasoning, and I used those assumptions to lash out using words that I would never advocate. And then, I reflected, even if he *had* voted for Trump, wouldn’t he still be the same person that has been my friend and excellent, trusted boss for all of these years? He is still the same person. How could I hate him or think that he would deliberately put someone in office that he thought would hurt people? He wouldn’t. He would have his reasons, but they would not be those reasons. And if he did vote for Trump,  wouldn’t he still be worthy of being treated with the same respect and kindness that he has always shown me? And if I can’t  treat him as such, how am I any better than the people I blame for supporting Trump and getting us into this mess?

It’s difficult to explain the fall of the dominoes that gave me a change of heart, except to say that I am the kind of person that has to know what I can do to fix something. I have to know what work I have to do to get the outcome I want. And then – I’ll do the damn work. Right now, I’m tired of being angry. I’m not tired of being angry with Trump – I hate him and all he stands for – but this week there has been an escalating tone of rage and hatred, in the violence in the streets as well as in the press and, more personally, on my social media and in my workplace. I’ve gotten in arguments and debates with people I like and respect because they won’t see my viewpoint and I can’t see theirs. Personally, I feel that the Trump campaign is responsible for it, and I want to opt out of the conversation. I want to fight everyone and be full of rage at people who voted for him. I want to blame them. But violence is what happens when we don’t know what else to do with our suffering, as Parker Palmer so wisely said, and there is no blame that can be laid without equal shares of responsibility and accountability. None of us can opt out of this conversation. We own it. We are living it. And if all I can do to fix this is work on myself, then, motherfucker, I will work on my own damn self. I have to find a way to turn my tone from rage and hatred, from lashing out at people based on my assumption of their situation, to reaching out and trying to understand. I have to find a way to respond to reports of violence, racism, sexism, hatred, not with my own lightning rage, finger-pointing and screams of “It’s YOUR FAULT” (as I am so prone to do) but maybe as Bernie Sanders did. He said, “To the degree that Mr Trump is serious about pursuing policies that improve the lives of working families in this country, I and other progressives are prepared to work with him. To the degree that he pursues racist, sexist, xenophobic and anti-environment practices, we will vigorously oppose him.” I can get behind that. I can look down this dark street and see that light in the black and follow it. Support the good. Vigorously oppose the bad. Stand up for the rights of all and be unfailingly courteous, kind, and protective of those who need my protection until I’m too old to protect anyone anymore. When Dan Rather says “don’t opt out,” maybe that’s what he’s asking me to do and if that’s my work, I will do it.
I don’t want to do it.
It’s easier to be pissed and hateful.
I want to lay down and cry instead of doing it.

But that’s life and that’s the work and maybe I’ll find a lot of people like my CEO, who surprise me.

election (part 1 of 2) – in which i am very very angry

I don’t really want to talk about the election, and I am sure that no one wants to read about it, but because this is my journal, I have to use it to help myself sort out my feelings. And Facebook is an absolute suck ass minefield these days, it feels like a den of vipers waiting to bite your heel. Feel free to read on or stop, it’s up to you, Dear Reader, but I warn ya, this is a RANT. This is everything I’ve wanted to say, and haven’t.

On Wednesday I had to wake my daughter up and tell her that someone that she considers to be a bad person was just elected president. I watched her turn over and bury her face in the pillow. I’d warned her, and tried to explain the voting process when we were walking down to the voting booths on Tuesday, but I explained to her (again) that this is part of living in America; sometimes we get to see the candidates we vote for take office, and sometimes we don’t. I explained (again) that sometimes the president-elect says things and does things that are not acceptable, and that just because he says and does them doesn’t mean that she or anyone else should. I said that if anyone says anything to her that she doesn’t understand, she should ask me, but I explained that we will continue to do what we do – respect each other and our neighbors and friends, be kind, stand up to bullies, protect and love and look after each other.

I said that she would probably hear some things at school today, and that everyone would have an opinion. Everyone gets a vote, I said, and that vote is private. No one has to justify their vote to anyone – that is the beauty of America. I told her that no matter who people voted for, that was their business. We were just going to do what we do and that it was all going to be okay, that her family loves and will protect her, and that if she has any questions, concerns, or fears, that she could talk to me about anything.

I know that she will be digesting this for awhile, and processing it as she does, and we will have more discussions. But for the moment, she was okay. I held her hand when we walked into school and the kids in Y-care were having a dance party and everything felt normal.

Those are the things that I needed to say to my child, and she needed to hear.
The minute I left, though, I could drop my mask, and sit in my car feeling all of the feelings. I pounded on the steering wheel. I cried. I screamed. I wanted to punch the world. I wanted to punch myself for feeling this so deeply.

I need someone to explain this to me, because I don’t understand.

And I am enraged.

I watched Van Jones in a CNN clip and it made me cry. “You try to teach your kids not to be bigots,” he said. “You try to teach your kids not to be bullies. How do I explain this to my kids?”

So many people in this country thrown away by our president-elect, our lazy, corrupt, hateful president-elect. People with disabilities mocked. People beaten and abused at his rallies. Women disrespected. Sexual assault approved of and dismissed as a joke. Nonstop bigotry and intolerance. I’ve had presidents I didn’t agree with before (“W”) but I’ve never dreamed that someone who didn’t respect huge swathes of the American population could ever become its leader. And the most baffling thing to me, the thing I feel the most betrayed by, are the women who voted for him. I had several female friends on FB who proudly said that they were voting for Trump because Hillary is “evil” and voting for Trump is their “Christian duty”. Can someone please explain that to me? How can anyone who calls themselves a Christian vote for someone with so much hatred in his heart?

I understand that both the candidates were deeply flawed, but we have a president-elect who believes that he could walk in and grab a woman “by the pussy” and that’s okay. Even if that’s dismissed as locker room talk – and that’s a big IF in my mind, because I believe firmly that he believes it, has done it, and will do it again – what about the crazies out there who are listening to him? What about the unbalanced population just looking to pop off at an immigrant, or rape a woman, or punch a dissenter? Suddenly, this world seems a lot less safe to me.

There will be violence, and there has been already. There are already swastikas and racial epithets and mobs and women being abused for wearing hijabs. I’ve seen on Facebook people telling “whiny pussy liberals” to quit their crying and acting like we’re crazy for sharing articles about these abuses already being perpetrated. “It’s probably not real and even if it is, it’s not a Trump supporter,” someone said on one post today. Um. Yeah. Because it’s TOTALLY OUT OF THE REALM OF FEASIBILITY that someone would take Donald Trump’s hate speech over this election to heart. Let’s see – in case anyone has forgotten – the last time I checked the running list that the NYTimes was keeping – 281 people our oh-so-respectable president elect has insulted, denigrated, or abused. Actual quotes from his mouth:

“I’d like to punch him in the face.” – about a dissenting protester

“I’ll beat the crap out of you.” – about a dissenting protester

He’d “love to fight” 74-year old Joe Biden

He called Elizabeth Warren “Pocahontas”, mocking her Native American blood.

He said Mexican immigrants were “rapists” and “sexual assaulters” – never mind his own glorification of his own sexual assaults on women.

He has said that he would force American soldiers to kill the families of terrorists – including children – and when former National Security Agency and CIA director Michael Hayden indicated that they may refuse – since those are war crimes, Trump’s response was: “They won’t refuse. They’re not going to refuse me. If I say it, they’re going to do it.”

He has called women pigs, dogs, disgusting animals, and slobs. Someone said that about me? No problem. Been called worse. Someone says that in front of my daughter because “President Trump” says it and it must be okay? Game over. Someone grabs me by the pussy because Trump said to do it, that you have to treat women like shit, that we like it? Game over.

All of these things are documented. They’re not made up. He said them. And I know, I know – I hear it all the time. “He’s putting on an act.” “It’s a SHOW. He won’t be like that in office!” “It’s locker room talk!” Eye roll. “Whiny libtard, you are overreacting. Settle down. Don’t take it to heart. Here’s your head pat.” *pat* *pat* *pat*

Yet it’s so unthinkable to red America that his supporters might take that hate speech to heart and do terrible things in its name. It is gobsmacking to me to see anyone say anywhere that they doubt a Trump supporter is responsible for an act of violence. No one should be surprised. It’s going to be happening all the time now. Keep telling yourself that he isn’t really like that, red America, it might make you feel better but no one else believes it.

I don’t know what else to say. None of this is organized or makes any sense. I wish I could put myself together to write a more coherent, data-driven post. But right now all I can feel is sad and outraged. I just really don’t understand it.

entertainment round up + nanowrimo update


Currently reading: Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen.
I’m not a huge BRUUUCCCCE fan but I heard him on Fresh Air and he was pretty articulate and thoughtful, so when I saw his autobiography in my library’s Lucky Day section, I picked it up. Goodreads tells me that based on my page count, I’m about 20% through it, and so far, I’m fairly ambivalent about the subject matter. It’s not making me feel much different about the music, but his writing is undeniably beautiful and lyrical. In fact, he’s an excellent writer – his chapters are well-organized, his thoughts are expressed clearly, and his descriptions are vivid and tinged with emotional awareness and a sense of passing time. I’m enjoying it  but am casting some longing glances at the next book in my “To Be Read” pile, Six of Crows.

Currently listening to: Podcasts.
I don’t know how I missed the podcast bandwagon for so long, but I have become aware of two that I’m currently devouring voraciously – My Favorite Murder and Thinking Sideways. Truth be told, I like Thinking Sideways better. I was the kid who read all about serial murders at an inappropriately young age – I still remember the look the lady at the bookstore gave me when I bought a biography of Ed Gein with my allowance – but the giggly, jokey tone of the My Favorite Murder hosts can get a little cringeworthy. I like the Thinking Sideways hosts better and am more interested in the wide range of topics they discuss – from the disappearance of Amelia Earhart to a mysterious website that went up in 2011 to ‘min min’ lights in Australia. It’s made my commutes and workouts fly by.

Currently watching: An Idiot Abroad. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a show that makes me laugh out loud as much as this one does. Karl Pilkington is the perfect foil for Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant and his escapades going on twisted world adventures that they dream up for him – priceless. One of my favorites was his experience on a desert island, and his consternation over being asked to wear a grass skirt that’s customary garb for the local tribe.

Currently eating: The original, world famous Tokyo Banana Cake – special giraffe edition. I have a long history of being tricked by Japanese desserts. They are the most beautiful little works of art, all immaculately packaged in artistic wrappings, they look delectable, you take a bite and find out it’s filled with bean curd, or cold potato. However, on a recent trip to the US, the head of our global legal team brought us a box of Banana Cakes and I was pleasantly surprised. They tasted like light, banana-flavored Twinkies filled with caramel custard. I may have finally found a Japanese dessert that I can eat! (I really only ate one although if I hadn’t been forced to share the box, I could have gladly had more.)


Currently thinking about: NaNoWriMo.
I’m solidly out of the gate during this first week, writing every day. I’m not meeting the recommended daily word count of 1,600-something, but I’m over 1,000 words each day and averaging about 1,200. Respectable, I think. I have a full outline with all of my chapters laid out and am ready for the hard work.

heap the logs


Happy Halloween to all my monster friends. I’m not dressing up this year but if I were, I’d probably be Emily the Strange, or if I had a great costume, Elizabeth Bennet.
I love Halloween but hate the day after. On November 1, it always seems as though the dark has firmly gripped us – and the streets seem empty, littered with dead leaves and detritus left from the festivities the night before. Still, though, we celebrate. Miss L’s school had their annual Trunk or Treat in the parking lot and we all showed up with candy and decorations. I dressed Finn up with an Under the Sea theme, $20 worth of decorations from Amazon and our old fish tank full of candy. To my great excitement, I won Runner Up, and got a trophy pumpkin and a gift bag.


Miss L’s dad and his partner K also came, and their Abandon Ship theme was funny and impressive and won the Principal’s Choice.
We all stood together to get our picture taken for the PTA, with the school mascot and principal, and Miss L in the middle. I was overwhelmed with a feeling of tremendous gratitude that we have overcome whatever problems we might have had and can do things as a family for her. I can’t speak for them, but I really enjoy the mutually supportive and understanding relationship we all share. Maybe we’re strange, but I still like my ex-husband and I like his girlfriend, too. We have all worked hard to get along and be kind to each other and it gives me a great sense of accomplishment that we have succeeded so far.

The weekend was busy, but there was time spent with my other quasi-family, Jax and his kids, cheering on his son at the Regional cross-country meet and his daughter at her ensemble performance for a Halloween program at a local nature center. Miss L had a great time and to top it off, Michigan beat “little brother” Michigan State. I celebrated with a special manicure.


November looms tomorrow and I am excited and intimidated to report that I have decided to participate in NaNoWriMo – national novel writing month. I always swore that I wouldn’t dabble in any of these cheesy acronym things. However, the thought of being motivated to write every day, and have a goal of 50,000 words in a month, and tools to help keep me accountable, excited me this year. So we will see. I will keep you updated on my word count periodically throughout the month and of course a full progress report at the end – how many words I achieved, etc.

Enjoy your All Hallow’s Eve….

All Souls’ Night, 1917

Hortense King Flexner

You heap the logs and try to fill
The little room with words and cheer,
But silent feet are on the hill,
Across the window veiled eyes peer.
The hosts of lovers, young in death,
Go seeking down the world to-night,
Remembering faces, warmth and breath—
And they shall seek till it is light.
Then let the white-flaked logs burn low,
Lest those who drift before the storm
See gladness on our hearth and know
There is no flame can make them warm.


autumnal things


Life has been a whirlwind of fall activities and general busyness, mixed in with angry cats still peeing on things, flu shots, hating Donald Trump, and wishing the weather were different. You know, the usual. The weather, at least, has finally started to cooperate, with rain and gloom (YASSSS!)  but it was unseasonably warm for several days and Miss L’s first pumpkin melted into slime on the porch. Luckily, one of our fall activities is our annual orchard trip with my brother and family tomorrow, so hopefully we can pick up another.

Other fall activities have included Girl Scout Core Camp (which I live tweeted – link in my sidebar), the book fair at school (I ran the cash register for a shift and realized how much happier I would be if I could get paid what I earn at Widget Central to do that as my real job), and preparing for Trunk or Treat next week. I’d planned on making all of Finn’s decorations out of crepe paper and construction paper and posterboard but who am I kidding. I can barely remember to take out the trash and I have a rotted pumpkin on my porch. I spent $20 on some preprinted cutouts on Amazon and Bob’s your uncle – done.


After my recent running ennui, I am starting to get back into the rhythm of heading out for a few miles every couple of days or so. No pressure. No watch. Tricking myself into liking it again.


the 5k that should have been a half. you can’t see him, but my dad is over on the left in that triumphant finish line pic, just out of the frame.

I’m also knitting a lot. My mom’s cowl is almost done and I actually knitted up a cute little Christmas tree decoration out of forest green alpaca. It was still on the needles waiting for bind-off when Sarge, one of the angry peeing cats mentioned above, rummaged in my knitting bag one day. He found it on it’s very attractive wooden needle and dragged it out of the bag, around the house until the needle fell out, the stitches unraveled, and he drowned what was left of it in his water dish. That was discouraging – not gonna lie.
He and his brother Emmett went to the vet last week for a checkup and a refill of their prescription. This was a traumatic experience for all of us. Getting two angry cats to the vet is no joke. They each had to have blood drawn…Emmett did fine, and then they took Sarge back. Miss L and I waited in the examining room without much concern. Sarge is pretty laid-back and during his last vet visit, he charmed all of the nurses. I assured them that he would be easy. After about five minutes, however, we heard a blood-curdling yowl that echoed through the entire cinder block office. Sarge came back with a walleyed nurse, gave us all a dirty look, sat down on the floor, licked his butt, and shook his paw until his pink bandage flew off. We got home, got everyone settled in their separate rooms, and the pharmacy called to advise me cheerfully that the chicken liver flavored feline Prozac is back ordered indefinitely. That’s just great, I thought. So for awhile longer, we live in chaos. The bright side of this is that I found a great recipe for stain removal on Pinterest.

So that’s the update. I hope things are well in your neck of the woods.


october hunter’s supermoon as seen from gs camp and as photographed on my crap iphone camera.