Skip to content

A skunk can have nine lives, if it’s so inclined

Your cat.

20130712-224546.jpg

Not your cat.

20130712-224712.jpg

3 miles today. And yesterday. And the day before.

Cats singing in the rain

One of the pleasures of moving from one town to another is transporting a gaggle of cats 45 miles. Two blocked my view and one tried to help drive. The old man of the crew, Chris, just sat and gave direction.

20130711-232529.jpg

They’ve adjusted nicely except for a noticeable increase in neediness. And unfortunately, they quickly located which window is the bedroom window from the outside.

Last night, in what was surely a gentle rainfall, they stood post and sung the song of their people until I let them in.

3 miles. Early start.

Welcome back

Meanwhile, a few pounds later, I finally got out for a jog. That was today. I’m not counting my five mile attempt a few days ago. That’s because I had chosen the hottest day ever to carry my carcass around the blueberry loop. It took a long, long time.

3 miles today in cooler weather. It felt good. Goal is to slowly get back into shape and stay injury free. If I attain those two things, I should be able to lose the amazing amount of weight I have collected. I should be hibernating.

Lisa & I moved to Machias. The commute is, oh, an hour less – which makes the drive, oh, about 5 minutes. Amazing the amount of stuff I can get done.

And in closing, here is a photo of Whitey Bulger and a rock that’s shaped like a foot.

20130710-221913.jpg

A fail snail tale

20130316-112152.jpg

As much as we admire the rural white-good-as-porch-ornament motif, Lisa and I lugged the above appliance to the curb for trash pickup. In doing, I was reminded of the great mollusk Patella mexicana, a true limpet.

Which is what I had after I bruised my kneecap on the dishwasher.

Friday 2.25 miles. Mending.

Stopping the Hands of Brine

20130312-110751.jpg

After Saturday’s roast, I pared the shell on Monday to prevent a repeat broil. Parka removal did the trick – except for my hands.

This morning, the armored mittens were replaced with thin gloves.

Spring in Winter’s Clothing

For some it’s a skunk. Others, the sting of tire thrown grit. Or maybe matted cover from a long forgotten mow.

For me it’s the steam cooker hidden beneath my shirt.

Overdressed. 4 miles.

Crispy

Another dry run. The wind still blowing bringing the chill down to 17 degrees.

Same route with an added portion to make 3. Feeling ok for starting out again. I am looking forward to some early sunrises. Now that I just typed that, I realize Sunday’s spring forward rather delays that prospect.