As an American my only response to this is

 

George Harrison (right) and Korky the cat discuss the renovation of house Kinfauns, July 1967.

 

The cat was the more intelligent of the two.

Pic unrelated

 

 

 

.

 

Sitting here drinking a complementary beer while doing laundry in a random hotel in middle America.

Reflecting on the last 2 months. I've spent only a couple of nights in my own bed. I've got 1 more week on the road, then home for a few week, and back on the road.

Started by breaking the boat. Blew a hole in the bottom. Got it back together for a week only to have a race cancelled. Following weekend took a first place both Saturday and Sunday. Broke the gas tank and battery box. And my ankle. Got back in town and immediately flew out again, right into a plant down situation. Then they caught the building & boiler on fire. Been trying to temp in a new boiler for a week.

 

Yay! Ouch! Damn!


I finally understand your screen name.

Did you break it in the boat while racing?

 

Ugh, no... Twisted it on the dock before the final heat. I was driving in rage. Driving shoes don't have much support.



May as well go for a hike.

 

 

Over the course of his decades-long career, the late photographer Walter Chandoha created over 90,000 images of cats.





It was this cat named Loco that got him started.


Walter was a World War II battle photographer who had transitioned into advertising. One day he picked up a gray kitten on the streets of New York City in 1949. Inspired by the cat's late-night antics, Chandoha and his wife Maria named him Loco—and it was by photographing Loco that Chandoha began a 70-year career as one of the world's most famous cat photographers.

 

 

 

Serious post:

For the past three days, there has been only one bun in my back yard when I get home, rather than the usual two.

We have predatory birds in the neighborhood, and at least one fox.

I fear the worst.

 

Everything in the forest eats bunnies. That's what bunnies are for.

 

here is some wildlife from my last few morning runs:

 

That turtle has seen some ****.

 

 

For sure, yes, this is true.

And I expect that Bun 2 is probably a pile of hawk **** by this point.

There's just something so incredibly Norman Rockwell-esque about yard rabbits in the middle of the city.

This is my first experience in owning a yard in over 20 years, much less one which is located in a turn-of-the-century neighborhood within a major urban center, with hundred year old oak trees providing shade over the children playing in the streets and on the sidewalks.

My own house predates my grandparents' legally immigrating to Cuba during the Spanish civil war. And I feel a sense of responsibility to be a good steward of this land and its history for future generations after I move on from it.


This whole situation (suburban life) is still very novel to me. I do not expect that people who have lived most or all of their lives in "modern" rural or suburban areas will natively understand / empathize.




EDIT: And that's ok. I do not mean that last bit as any sort of defamation or insult. I'm keenly aware that my own experience is that of a minority, carrying on the heritage and legacy of some random family in the early 1900s whose names I am still trying to, but may never may never learn, who were a part of building up this country during the heyday of its great expansionist period 120 years ago.

 

Our backyard used to have a least 5-6 squirrels and 3-4 chipmunks at a glance. Then a family of hawks built a nest.