forkboy1965 forkboy1965

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Mark Alfson  Making your Internet experience all the more useless.

I’ve decided to become a farmer. Meet my first cow: Burger.

About 12 years ago I saved a family of four, one-year old cats from a condemned building. There were three brothers and one sister, who I temporarily named Little One. It wound up with me keeping them all and as time went by it became apparent Little One (and her brother, Pumpkin) were unlikely to properly socialize with we humans. But that wasn’t really important to me. Their safety and well-being was, and I learned that letting them be who they were was important. They aren’t here for me after all. However, a few years ago Little One and I found a way to let me pet her and she was okay with it. She didn’t love it, but she had seemed to decide I was finally worthy of a trial-period. This remained the status quo until February of this year, when my Elf (bka Baby Bit) passed away. It seems that Baby Bit may have been holding back Little One because within a week or so Little One was coming round to me for attention and pets! (It had become my belief for a few years that secretly Baby Bit was aggressive with Little One). Without any prompting she would come round, meow, rub against me, and do all those things a cat will do to indicate trust, and a desire to be handled. Of course, the universe is in no way fair, and it saw fit to take away my Little One this past week. She had begun to eat less, and then nothing at all. The vet found an aggressive, large, and inoperable tumor in her mouth and throat, and so I was forced to say goodbye to a cat with whom I had experienced little one-on-One until very recently. I’m ever so grateful there was a silver lining in the loss of Baby Bit, but I cannot help but feel cheated as Little One and I won’t have more years to further grow and explore our budding new relationship. There is solace to be taken in knowing we had some time together, closer, but I cannot help but feel robbed. Some days....I really hate the universe.

So in a small matter of time, Amarillo has become quite the love-bug at the feral colony.

If you can listen to “I Took a Trip On a Gemini Spaceship” and your body not instinctively begin to pulse with the rhythm, you’re dead inside.

Communing with Bowie via the Parasound Halo integrated amp, Marantz CD player and Goldenear Triton 2+ (not pictured). I’m reminded of the line uttered by Alex in A Clockwork Orange...”What you got back home little sister, to play your fuzzy warbles on? I bet you got little, save pitiful, portable picnic player. Come with uncle and hear all proper. Hear angel trumpets and devil trombones. You are invited.”

When you’re sick you’re supposed to watch MST3K

We had no Autumn of which to speak. We went from very warm to cold. And winter has no intention of letting go early, but we are okay with that. Snowed twice this week. Had more snowfall now, in the first week of April, than we had all last winter.

A lovely day to be out, but I’m sick. Unfortunately being sick doesn’t mean the feral cats don’t get to eat. Only the most recent addition, Amarillo, was about. I cannot tell if she’s pregnant or gaining weight because she’s getting fed daily. Time will tell.

Finally found her a single serving bottle.

Ever since I ran the salad bars at Steak & Ale (circa 1985) I’ve LOVED blue cheese dressing with big, fresh mushrooms. My father thinks I’m some sort of apostate.

Abby and I enjoyed a hike at Charleston Falls Preserve today.

CDs and a book courtesy of my parents for my bday back in January. So much good stuff.

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