Queen Barbara

Novel-writing weather is afoot, and just in time for national novel-writing month. (November).  I wonder what it would be like to attempt such? It does tempt.

Looking out on the carpet of yellow leaves this morning, I felt all gothic inside. I thought of great hounds in great castles clinging to the ankles of their masters. In my picture, but one sound: the sound of collars clanging.  Steely too-tight collars jangling ‘gainst the ice what got up in the hounds’ fur. Their wretched underbellie’s rattling with icicles. The icicles dragging along the frozen heather in the night.

The portents of the morning cup o’ joe.  Fear not, as more than mere folly shall befall these digits.

Leafblowing man roams within earshot. Yes, he’s the elderly fellow what does odd jobs time to time here at View Villa. A leafblower!  I wish he wouldn’t, as the collection of leaves is like I said, carpet-like. But he’s been doing his job for nigh onto 50 yrs. I’m not kidding. It’s like they sold the building, and they made it into condos, but the maintenance man was in the contract. Again, I’m not kidding. When I lived in this place as an apartment, this old guy would come in to fix the plumbing and what-not. He couldn’t actually fix things. He could more just take up my time, speaking very slowly. I’m normally a curious sort. As interested in a plumber as a CEO. But this plumber, and now leafblower, he’s really boring, okay? And I’m sure he doesn’t know what a blog is, so I’m safe.

I’m on my 2nd cup. Just warming up. I don’t want to cleanup that paragraph. And if I choose to write ad nauseum in November, you can bet your bottom dollar I”m not going to edit that stuff.

As you can well imagine.

I made up a song for Babs. She’s my cat. Cuz see I get up, but she remains behind. It’s NOT EASY TO GET UP whne the animal will not follow you blindly into the cold kuitchen to push the ON button.  She makes life very difficult. Well, she eases it not.

Under, bunder babz
Under, bunder babz
She’s my under-bunder kitty cuz she loves her bunders so
Under, bunder babz
Under, bunder babz
I go to make the coffee and she rolls her eyes but budges not
Under, bunder babz
Under, bunder babz
And so on.
You can make up all kinds of new verses.

NOW, if perchance the sound of the coughdrop wrapper should be heard from across the house, she will come runnuing. Becuase it sounds like the opening of the TEMPTATIONS package. She loves those little niblets. She gets them every day, for the following:

a) Scratching on the free chair
b) Sitting in my lap
c) Because it’s time for TEMPTATIONS

Oh, and I read on a web site, not to make a big fuss when she scratches on the ridiculously expensive couch or my favorite rug. I’m to chastise her verbally, no more.

I WANT TO KILL HER WHEN SHE DOES THAT.

For halloween, since there’s not a plan to be had, nor a party that I know of, I may accompany Emma to the land of her birth. Myrtle Creek, OR. In my mind this is a land of many trees and creeks, with wild geese a’roamin’.  This on account of a wonderful tale Nathan told about catching a goose for the Holiday Feast. I’ve been pining for my beloved Corrales, so this will hlopefully be a Corrales fix, minus the chile.  I can see her old man’s farm, while he has it. You know how quick the life flies by, and leaves one wondrin’, “Why didn’t I go to the farm when I had the chance?”

The workday commences shortly, after I drop the car off to Hans. Trouble with the driver’s side door handle has me exiting the car from the passenger’s side. The gadget to fix the trouble costs $13.99 and Hans will install it for something ridiculous like $5.99.  They’re crazy over there. Must have other income streams than mechnicalating.

What with the legalities a’terminatin’, I might be financially back in the black by next summer. The spreadsheet does not lie.  New income streams shall come afoot. I pray for the election of Obama as I think he has successfully programmed “HOPE” into the psyche of the PUBIC. They will begin to purchase anew once that feller is there a’reignin’. Or asking around, “Fellas, uh, where’s that Oval thing?” Har har. So funny in the morning! Oh, come on, you know I love you. Would it hurt to turn up the corners of your beautiful lips?