1.08.2004

what am I listening to..?
This Ascension - "Ill met by Moonlight".


greetings...

I've been busy lately and this is the first time I've had to sit and spill the usual useless, droll drivel...
blah, blah, blah, snort, fizzle, goop...
it's almost amazing that I have nothing interesting to say...
have you visited Darchangels new site yet? If not, do so, 'tis very cool.
I've not yet hosed my hard drive, but spent most of my free time backing up everything so I can do so soon, perhaps this weekend. Once that is completed, I will be reworking the blog. Or perhaps I'll hire someone do it for me, as I find wrestling about with html a less than fulfilling endeavor... Anyone out there interested in taking on the task? If so, drop me a line and we can discuss the particulars...
I think I need a haircut. I shut my ponytail in the car door the other night and almost ripped the back of my head off. It does, however, make a rather nice impromptu scarf, which comes in handy these days, it's been quite cold with no real relief in sight.
yes, it's another boring chapter of life at stately sad old goth manor... Sorry, the muse seem to have taken a holiday, perhaps to warmer climes... I have, however, been doing some off-line writing lately, after I do some serious editing I shall foist it upon you for your amazement and amusement. Stand by for that, bet you can't wait, can you?
let's see, what else... Oh, the flying squirrels in the attic have been suspiciously quiet lately, maybe they've decided to settle in for the winter and take a snooze, or perhaps they've noticed the gargoyles on the roof and have fled in sheer terror. Last Christmas, Christmas night to be specific, one decided to venture down into the manor and caused quite a stir. We had just come home from visiting family, and our cat, Tiger the Cat and my daughter's cat, Miss Orange, were going at it hammer and tongs in the parlor, which may have had something to do with the Christmas tree taking a tumble into the middle of the room. While we were straightening that mess out, Rocky the Flying Squirrel decided to pay us a visit... Apparently he was hiding on one of the ancient beams that span the ceiling of the parlor and jumped down onto the head of our "adopted" son (he's from Ivory Coast, Africa... More about that later at some point in time), then sprinted across the top of the sofa, out the parlor door, through the foyer and into the dining room, where I played "catch Rocky" for a half hour till I cornered it on the top of the china closet. All this whilst Tiger the Cat and Sheba, the Hound from Heck are running around after me and the squirrel, my daughters and Herve (the kid from Africa) have barricaded themselves in the parlor with my daughter's cat, Miss Orange, deciding that watching me diving under the table and jumping around the room was ever so much more fun than trying to help, I guess it was quite a show seen from behind the safety of the French doors of the parlor... Anyway, I had on a pair of thick leather work gloves and managed to grab the thing, then realized I didn't know what to do with it... I yelled for one of the girls to get me the cat carrier and I put it in there and placed it on the dining room table. I decided that I would take him for a ride to the state park a few miles away and let him go, so I turned around to get my coat from the closet from under the stairs and when I turned back, there he was, sitting on top of the carrier, staring at me. I swear he was smiling. Of course, this led to another half hour romp around the dining room, during which he decided that he'd take a run up the stairs. Luckily, the only door that was open was to the bathroom, so I spent another twenty minutes on the hunt in there. I finally cornered him in the room where the toilet is (the manor has a huge bathroom, it's three separate rooms, actually), and grabbed him again. This time I just held on to him and my daughter drove us to the park, where I let him go. I'm sure he made it back to the manor before we did. We haven't seen any in the manor proper since, I suppose it's not worth the trauma of being chased around the darkened halls of the lair by some crazed old goth wearing heavy leather gloves, although if any of you young ladies are up for the experience... sorry, I couldn't resist... now, where was I..?
well, I guess I did have something to say tonight after all. Nothing like a good flying squirrel story, huh?
I think I need a glass of merlot and a bite to eat. I think I'll be back, that story reminded me of another one that shall share with you, about another chase through the manor, this time in pursuit of a cute little bat...
later.


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