A head full of fluff and no stuff

- Meeps -

Fire-gazing is a good sport for this time of year, as the terror of my household demonstrates in the photo. This was the tiny kitten I found at the Roscoe Fourth of July fireworks show. Ya want him? Not really. But, do you?

A past-time of mine is poring over the want ads, seeing what kinds of jobs are available. It's therapeutic, sort of like reading a good book, because I try to put myself in the role of the position I'm reading about. This morning I explored the possibilities of being a background investigator, an airport clerk, a pole-holder for seismographing, a locksmith, and a tv station recording room operator. I am gainfully employed, and happy with my job, but I don't want to miss any opportunities. You never know when they'll post a vacancy for a writer that only writes when she wants to, about what she wants to, and gets paid graciously for such.

I thought about posting another photo of a seismo tractor that I took on 1614 the other day, but to tell the truth, it's all becoming commonplace, and it seems all the activity pertains to the pipelines that are being installed every half-inch around here. Arteries! Everywhere! Even if they went across my property, it would probably only net me a buck seventy in damages. I don't own much real ground. Just enough for a pumpjack (Come on, come on!).

I am feeling inspired about spring, and the seed catalogs are putting me in my usual state of delusion, the one where I imagine a beautiful blooming garden full of luscious vegetables. The turnout is usually completely opposite, a lot of that to do with forgetting to water and complete disinterest once the temperatures reach the 100's. For now, though, I'm going to slip into a nap while imagining eight-foot tall okra and an orchard full of fruit trees.