Bird of Spring

Puxawtawny Phil saw his shadow, so we all know the Northeast is destined for six more weeks of winter. Except a robin was perched on the backyard fence today. He was shorter than I'm used to robins being, and a little squat, though the squatness may be explained by the poofed-out feathers. It's below freezing again. I can't imagine what he's doing up here right now. There's many inches of ice and snow on the ground, and even he he found an exposed spot, the ground itself is frozen. No worms here, little friend. I hope he flies back south instead of trying to stick it out up here. He'll either starve or freeze to death. But it was very nice to see his round, red breast this morning. It's almost spring, he tells me. And, who knows? Maybe Phil was wrong.

Cat On Desk = BAD! THING!

Floof is perched on the desk again, purring away, occasionally checking my typing (which has degenerated severely). Mom caught her up there a couple of days ago and had an absolute fit. Scream, scream, yell, yell, fit, fit. So, I've decided to be more careful and only let Floof sit up there when I know Mom won't catch her. Like, when Mom's asleep. Which is all the goddamned day, lazy bitch. And then there's the psychosomatic illnesses which keep her whiny and bedridden. Unless she wants raspberry pie and ice cream. Then she can manage to drive down to Delmar. Rrrg. Floof, you stay right where you are, cutie. You keep on purring. I won't let that bitch do a thing to you. Grrrr.