DISCUSSING THE MESSY SUBJECTS

The gentleman who dossed down in our portico last night was still there when I left for an early morning jaunt. On examining the recumbent form better than previously, I noted that he was wearing sports shorts and a windbreaker. Not by any standard weather for this time of year.
He seemed to be dreaming; I think he was chasing cats.
Auntie with the pistachio-hued hat was already out taking her walk. She roams much further afield than when I first saw her, but she stays within four blocks of her home. Which I can well understand, as there are many strange white people in this neighborhood, who behave in eccentric fashions, as well as feral homeless people.

I likewise prefer not to stray too far. My own ambit is max eight blocks. Which is how long it takes to smoke a pipe. By the time of my second walk the portico gentleman had upped and left, leaving a slight mess where he had been. I expect I'll see him again. John tells me that he's been there before, and he's strongly considering putting up an iron gate.


Because my apartment mate has had a busy weekend (a charitable activity in which she participates nearly every Saturday morning), she stayed home today. She spent part of the morning watching dermal procedures and earwax clump removal videos on her computer. Lord, would you look at that! It's humongous! Unbelievable! They've found Jimmy Hoffa! Interspersed with a medical voice explaining the chemical composition of the material, foaming slime, keratin, sebum, puss, and natural skin by-products that all sounded more than half-way disgusting. On my side of the room I may have been turning green, but she didn't notice.

Besides, she probably assumes that tough he-man Dutch Americans are used to nasty things. Isn't that part of our native environment? Well, yes, but that's just a normal dinner, when it's meatloaf. It took me years before I voluntarily tried meatloaf again.

It's a moist day out. Mist, drizzle, fog, drably crap precipitation from the sky, wet breeze that changes directions, rain, thick aggressive haze, general damp. Coldish, but not as bad as Texas, where they're experiencing climactic conditions that apparently qualify them for disaster aid, because the poor dears have never before experienced winter.

I am lacking in sympathy.

I've heard so much about the superiority of Texas in all things that they can stew in their own icicles, as far as I'm concerned.


I have considerably more sympathy for the stuffed turkey vulture sitting on the cookie box nearby; he's audibly dreaming of eating chicken legs. And haunch of little girl hamster.
Which we disapprove of, because she's a friend.

Perhaps it is time to step outside for another smoke.


AFTERTHOUGHT

This corner of the teevee room looks more orderly than it actually is.
Partly that's because of outside light streaming in.
It's brighter now than this morning.


She's watching Valley Of The Dolls again. It's her favourite horrid movie. So it's definitely time for a nice long walk with something profound in the pipe.

TOBACCO INDEX


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