It’s become the custom, in the nearly three years since my divorce, that my kids spend the week after Christmas with their Mother. They’ve been with her non stop now since Monday. They’re only about 20 minutes away, but I probably won’t see them until late this weekend. I miss them something terrible. I do talk with my daughter everyday, and yesterday she sent me this picture in an email. She thought it was pretty funny, and I do as well. You see, we’ve recently discovered that our Cairn Terrier, Trooper
, doesn’t ride well in the car. He’s constantly moving about, bothering everyone and trying to see everything he can out the windows. In the weeks since our trip to Canada we’ve made an effort to take him with us occasionally so he can get used to being a car rider. I imagine if he was sitting in the back seat, and there was a sudden acceleration, this could possibly happen to him.
You know, it occurred to me last night that I’ve always had issues with the Dr. Seuss book, The Cat in the Hat
. When Susan and I got into bed we began watching the HBO documentary, Cat House
8,....(ain’t legal prostitution wonderful?)...then I switched it over to the Mike Meyers Cat in the Hat movie from a couple years ago. That movie is just as disturbing as the book and the original cartoon. There is just something about that Cat
, and Thing 1 and Thing 2
that freak me out. I can remember being a child and thinking how terrible, and scary, it would be to have the three of them visit my house. Plus there was that poor goldfish. All it was trying to do was warn the kids of the dangerous cat. But still the rampage continued....How do you control them? They’ll do whatever they want and there’s nothing you can do about it. It was terrifying to me as a child. Just as bad as those flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz! It killed me when they ripped apart the Scarecrow.
I sat at the foot of the bed for about thirty minutes watching the live action (although totally computer generated) version of the classic tale, and I realized I was feeling the same old surge of terror I used to feel as a child. No wonder I’ve never really liked or trusted cats! They’re shifty and untrustworthy on a regular day, but hook them up with a couple of Things
and they’re a force to be reckoned with.
Speaking of forces to be reckoned with, I discovered a blog today from a fellow HNTer, as well as a fellow Alabamian. He recently took a trip to the Biloxi/Gulf Port, Mississippi area and took a few pictures. It’s amazing that, five months later, the destruction is still so visible. Hurricane Katrina was such a bitch! He doesn’t need the publicity, his blog has a good following, but click your way over there and check out his pictures
. I’m familiar with several of the land marks he has photographed. I was in that part of the country back in March, and I posted a few pics while I was there. If you want to check them out click here
. I'm glad I bought a t-shirt what I was at the Biloxi Hooters restaurant. I doubt you can get one now.
My week of weird dreams has continued. I’ve documented them in the past few posts and Wednesday night they continued. I dreamt I was aboard a cruise ship, docked at NYC (yeah that’s weird) and I had lost my five year old son. I looked all over for him. On every deck of the ship, as well as the warehouses on the docks. It was scary and oh so freaky. Plus there was some kind of Soprano’s looking characters following me around while I was searching. Folks I tell you, these dreams I’ve been having are totally out there! I’m about ready for them to stop. Last night it was more of the same, only this time I was selling gift certificates online good for sexual services from me. They started at $250! Yeah, I'm that