Ramblings from the Desert

The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either. ~Benjamin Franklin

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Location: New Mexico

Author of the urban fantasy novel, The Music of Chaos, and the paranormal romance, The Canvas Thief.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Fish and Wood Chips


All the critters in our household are insane.

Exhibit A, The Pleco. A couple months ago I put a new ornament in the tank, a moulded plastic thing that was supposed to look like cliffs. The Pleco wasn't impressed and he peeled it off the side of the tank and now wears it on his head like a hat.

(The Pleco's two new tank mates, Merry and Pippin are still alive, by the way. Merry and Pippin were my Valentines Day gift from the J-Man, two cute little Ryukin goldfish.)

Meanwhile, the J-Man was all-man, all-the-time this weekend. Last week we signed a big fat contract for another gate commission. Naturally, he had to get a new welder. The new toy, I mean welder arrived on Friday and on Sunday, J-Man was making like the village blacksmith, literally. He also got a forge for Christmas. Toxic, black, coal smoke, the hammering of metal on metal...if this doesn't encourage our idiot neighbors to move, I don't know what will.

The kitchen disaster, er, remodel is also in full swing. The kitchen and living room look like an army of addicts have been snorting coke off the furniture. A thick, white coat of drywall dust covers everything, including the dogs.

My tally for the weekend: a cold and two migraines. Most of my cranial wiring is still undone and I'm feeling unfunny. This morning the yellow thing in the sky hurts my bones. I'm skulking around the house--day off, neener, neener--like Dracula--if Dracula sported dirty sweatpants and bed hair--hissing at daylight, skin steaming on contact with UV light.

Hope ya'll have a good Monday.

P.K.

 

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