Not Dead Yet

No, I haven’t fallen off the earth. I’ve just been a bit distracted lately, and I didn’t really want to let anybody know how deep the doodoo is around me at the moment. Also, every time I sit down to type, a furbaby decides that it wants to be held, dagnabbit, and NOW.  While I am not a “true” typist, the hunt-n-peck-with-one-hand method is just annoying. Forget getting anything done, like, say, taxes.

I am grateful they want me, tho. Lord knows… well, it’s just nice.

Another reason I haven’t written is that I have had basically no adult contact since Sunday. It’s hard to have things to talk about when the only people I’ve seen are shorter than I am, and bruthuh, that’s short. I could tell you the babies are growing and allllmost walking, but then they’re just kittens, after all, and that probably doesn’t interest you. It’s not like they’re children with souls and futures, cute as they are. I will have to find homes for them myself in a few weeks, because their sorry owner will just let them go wild. Any person who says his chickens and turkeys just aren’t “road worthy” rather than building them a suitable pen to keep them safe should never be allowed to own an animal of any kind.

I did have one interesting thing happen last week. I got a lot of telemarketing calls about debt relief and cruises. Then about 3 days later, three packages arrived in the mail from book clubs, and another from a music club…none of which I ordered. Somebody had fun with my name and address, apparently. They ordered such titles as “Fat Squares: Quilting” and “Eat, Pray, Love.” The oddest volume is a book on knitting socks, followed closely by Ariana Franklin’s “Mistress of the Art of Death.” Hmm. I don’t really see a pattern there, although there are people who know I love socks and want to learn to quilt. That’s a little creepy, and a couple of others could be taken to be commentaries on my love of food. That would just be mean.

In case you’re wondering, the book clubs were kind enough to resolve the issue to my favor. I admit I was curious what titles somebody would have chosen, so I happily opened them when given the green light. I was relieved to know the damage was limited to my physical address, and not my bank account. Most likely the culprit is some stupid kid who saw my name on something and thought it would be funny to mess with my head.

Either that, or I’m schizo, and did it myself without knowing. I don’t have any lost time, but that would explain why I wake up so exhausted every day.

At least now I have some new reading material. I was wondering how to fill that Harry Potter void.

Let’s see… cast on 3, then perl 1…