It gets lonely up in them thar hills.
Me and my cellphone
It’s weird. I spent most of my life without a cell phone. Functioned quite nicely without it…. Then one day in 2012, on a whim, I decided to buy a cellphone.
And now, years later, I carry this thing with me everywhere I go. I stare at it constantly. It’s like I can barely imagine being able to survive without this thing. And now, I’ll probably carry this thing with me everywhere I go for the rest of my life…. Or until it becomes obsolete and they replace it with something else. Like how they went from vinyl to cassettes to CD. And now people don’t listen to CDs any more….
The 9 faces of Fatty the feral cat
Fatty made it through all the rain storms. Showed up this morning in fine shape. But with a big appetite. . . I’m not exactly sure how my feral cats deal with the winter rains. But they’re all really smart. I figure they all somehow manage to find some relatively dry spots to hole up at when it’s raining, and just curl up and sleep through the storms.
A break in the battle
After two months of pretty much non-stop rainstorms, I woke up this morning and quickly packed up my campsite, and as I headed up the road I looked up into the sky and there it was — the unmistakable tone of blue coloring in the sky. . . The rain was FINALLY over!!
Moo Cat the feral cat turns 70
It’s hard to believe Moo Cat is turning 70-years-old (in human years). Born in January of 2009, part of the first litter of feral kittens born at my campsite, 14 years ago.
And still as fiesty and full of piss-and-vinegar as ever. I fed her this morning right before the rain hit, and she bulled her head into the cat food dish like usual. Pounded her cat food and then jumped all over me, demanding I kick down some of the swiss cheese she knows I have stashed in my backpack. Ha ha. Moo Cat.
The Rare Man turned 70 this year. Which is somewhat hard to believe.
“Mini Scaredy” by Scott Goodell . . .Nice! A work of art.
Fatty the black feral cat survives the storms and lives to eat another breakfast
Big breakfast for Fatty, then she headed off to her territory on the other side of the creek.. . .
I know what her big plans for the morning are: To climb up to the top of the hill where the sun is coming out, and spend many hours lazing in the sun…. Which can feel particularly good after three weeks of enduring the rain and cold. Believe me!
The Cat on my Back is Back!
Mini Scaredy is like my little baby. Sometimes I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and realize I’ve got this cat sleeping on top of my back. Which is kind of weird when you think about it. I’m just some homeless guy sleeping in the woods in a sleeping bag. And I got this feral cat sleeping on top of me alongside me. She just claimed me as hers. So we’re like roommates. Ha ha. Sleeping in the same bed.
Sometimes you get a break, you get lucky (but as Chinaski said: “That counts too!”)
I feel like I got a reprieve. Like I’ve been given a second chance. Ya know? Like when they’re strapping you down to the electric chair and they’re just about to turn on the juice. And at the last second you get a call from the Governor saying: “Stop the electrocution! I’m giving you a full pardon!!” And you’re not doomed after all. You’ve been granted a reprieve.
Last week I was freaking out thinking I was going blind (my eyeballs are my Achilles Heel, health-wise, they’re in a very precarious state). But it turned out my eyes are still functional. So I might still get some more years as a functional human being. Before I eventually, inevitably, burn out. So it was like being granted a reprieve. Being given more years to live and prosper.
I’ll probably just fuck up these remaining years. But still. I’m happy to have them. Knock knock.
Ace Backwords Photos 