Oh know, not these again. I created a page called "simple thoughts" to take care of this stuff, but it doesnt seem to handle everything. So I am compelled once again, to write stuff down.
I've almost finished reading "Children of the Arbat", which takes place in the Soviet Union of the 1930s - its a very good book. I read it once 20 years ago, but I thought I'd give it a try again. It seems impossible for a Russian to write a short book. Even their short stories are long. Anyway, here in the USA, if you're arrested for something, you have the right to know what the charge against you is, pretty much immediately. When one of the "Arbat" protagonist was arrested, he was never told why. At his first interrogation he was asked "Why do you think we arrested you?". He was eventually sentenced to 3 years in exile, without ever really knowing why he was arrested. I had never really thought about the ramifications of being arrested but not knowing what you were charged with before.
A violent storm blew thru last night, and our neighbor lost a good sized tree. Last time we had a violent storm I tweeted about it & next thing I knew I had a couple of people trying to sell me siding. I'll let this one slide.
At this very moment I hear a train whistle off in the distance.
My head has been hurting off and on all day. The beginning of the end? Or do I just need some aspirin? I vote aspirin.
Our eBay business keeps rolling along. I need to figure out how to increase our profits by about 10-fold. Then we'd have something.
The Ms. Patti & Pickles Annes are snoozing on the couch. It is a very warm and lazy Saturday afternoon.
We have a small gray metal table with folding leafs on either end. It is in front of a window in our office, and is holding an 18 inch figurine of a late 18th or early 19th century soldier. It is framed beautifully by my computer screen and the computer tower (which I placed on my work table, cause it was easier for me to get at things that way). Anyway, I just wonder how that figurine got there. I remember what it cost ($3.00), but I don't remember why.
I've never owned a Mustang. Or a Corvette. Or a classic Buick Riviera. I haven't owned a lot of cars. You could fill a book up with all the cars I've never owned.
Cars I have owned? I don't really want to get into that.
We have a menagerie on our front porch. Birds have raised families in both our hanging plants, and hummingbirds seem to have taken to the feeder. And we have a bird bath, frequently used by our feathered friends and occasionally a squirrel.
I don't listen to music very much any more. I wonder why? I should.
I also don't make up lives for people like I used to. It used to be a game, to pass the time - random people I didn't know. I'd give them lives and personalities based on whatever snippet I witnessed.
I'm worried about pore ol' Snowchief the Cat. He's so old.
I think this is enough, time to walk the dog.