Thinking of absent friends.

[weaselmom]

This entry is mostly for our dear friends who are languishing hundreds and hundreds of miles away. S and I spent the evening on the Hill at the apartment, entertaining (and being entertained by) the cats. Two spectacular fights broke out, and I was sure the baby had attacked Fatkitty until S said that as far as he could tell, Fatkitty was stalking and hassling the baby. I separated the combatants, shouted at them both, then soothed and cuddled each of them in turn. Fortunately, nobody seemed the worse for wear. I wonder how many times they go after each other when no one is around?

Some highlights from around the neighborhood: The people who braided their grass added a special touch for Pride Week by braiding in lengths of different-colored ribbons to achieve a rainbow effect. Very festive. The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence were out in force, but we didn't dare cross the street to see them because we were on a tight timeline and couldn't afford to get swept up in Sisterly lunacy. Ditto for checking out the practically naked guy lip-synching to disco tunes in a shower set up in the window of the boutique that sells offensive monkey t-shirts.

It was good to hear your voices tonight, even though it's heartbreaking to be so far away and unable to do anything to help. Here's hoping you'll be back soon, good Lord willin' and the creek don't rise.

Comments

thunderstorms are the worst

[kijjohnson.livejournal.com]

when they're going on. Frog-strangling, skin-chilling rain, and everything's still so sticky that you feel you'll never be warm again. But then they go away, and the air is cleaner, and the sky is beautiful, and the sun when it finally comes out feels wonderful.

We're okay, thank god, and we miss you and the cats, and can't wait to see you again. (And even the cats.)