When Nature and Civilization collide it sounds just like stirring twelve tin cans in the bathtub with a golf club. This sound, combined with another soundthe sound of a pair of teeny-tiny hands strangling a pigeon.
I laid in bed for 1…2…3…4…5 hours and listened to, what I concluded was, a pigeon trapped behind the flashing on my house.
A squirrel met its maker (Bruce Hornsby) that same way last Summer. But not before it spent several days running itself to death. Was the pigeon luckier? It shivered in the cold until shortly before dawn. Like the Little Match Girl, it shivered to death, clutching a clawful of burnt matches.
We have a client that needs graphics for its trucks so while I listened to the pathetic cries of the dying pigeon, I thought about that.
It was a productive night.
Jen said this was called taking inventory and while I am familiar with this as a spiritual concept, with a priest and 
These items were not on Jen’s list
but I think that was a potentially expensive oversight. Just to be on the safe side, I counted one dog named Millie and 34 pieces of Bazooka.
But no, that would be silly! Classic Pam is too busy.
Pam spent last week at the 
and working on the book. Here’s a teaser:
PUT YOUR GLASSES ON.
THAT’S RIGHT.
and my prayers were sort of answered, because Jen came to search/tear the house apart.
Tib had means AND motive. She was questioned and released.
Poor Tib… We accused her of eating her weakest kitten. (True story.)
The kitten was later found, unharmed.
and eating all of the Holiday Cookies.
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Merry Christmas Eve-Eve!
More to come…
Oh, the cats? Never mind those. This place is crawling with them.
Fine, here’s this year’s Christmas tree.
See you there!