Letters From the Bathroom Being of an age by which time has provided me with a whole lot to say, but with so little time left to get it said, I have gone the way of one of my heroes: the Great Gabriel Garcia Marquez: When he was intent upon the mountainous task of writing his hundred year family chronicle, One Hundred Years of Soliitiude, but without anything like a hundred years to write it, his wife locked him in the bathroom to get it done. And so shje did and he did his business. So he said. We know he wrote the book in good time, and I know he has also said that the actual events of life are so bazare that there is no need to make anything up, but that doesn’t rule out a certain amount of EXAGGERATION in that book, or in his locked- in-the-bathroom story, and I no longer even have Georgia to lock me in the bathroom, but in the spirit of the thing. I can certaonly lock myself in, and I will so do, and so while I am here in the bathroom I will surely drop some chapters.

Three Lawyers Walk into the Fargo

Hickory provideth and Hickory Taketh Away

As all food is political, and Hickory is the tyrantacat of the Dogs Plot Cats, even though he has food always on his plate here inside, he goes out with me to feed the others, and head bumps them in a family way, and joinst them for a bite, unless he first needs to chase Tramp away, whom he doesn't tolerate for some reason, catilitical. Lately, because it has been cold, I feed them both dry food and soup of my left- over food. Hickory was already outside somewhere this evening when I put the soup and crunchies. Out hunting, as it turns out and because he wants to be an independent provider, he didn't just eat his mouse where he caught it, but brought it up to the feeding place , lay down with the mouse, growled at everybody, and ate the whole thing himself. I once had a little hawk, a kestrel, that I fed on mice the cats brought in. But he would always leave the gall bladder. I mean...wouldn't YOU? Is it because of domestication that Cats sometimes lack god-old animal sense?

Cat fishing flycast

Hickory, cat number one, knows the fly is not reeal and has learned to suspend disbelief, like any nineteenth century poet, but the outdoor Cats, Roody and Ocean here, just think I'm being weird. Later, out back in the weeds, I will try some long-casting instead of just dapping like you see here ... and then we'll see who's a fool and a pussy. Probably have to wait till Spring, but I can take the time to tie up some new flies. I can make a mouse from Deer hair .... i have a couple I did right here, then try one out some night soon when it's still and not a creature is stirring. You know the kind of night I mean.

Possums For Dindin

You can eat anythibg we got at the Dogs Plot Resturant; you just don't get to choose your dinner companions.