There I was, naked in the shower, soon to be on my way to to the the Underground to Heathrow Airport to SeaTac to Portland International to the employee bus to my car to the house and Saylor, the worthless cat. I was on my way home. Parting was was hard.
So there I am on the plane. We are taxing out and a baby has been crying, maybe screaming, for about ten to fifteen minutes. Some moron, I think an American, yells "Can't you shut that kid up!" The plane became silent, except for the baby, who's shrill screams reminded me of a F-4 going into after burner. I so wanted to say something bright, like " Your making more noise than the baby" or better yet " Who is sounding like a baby now, you dip shit!". But it was not to be needed. Some gentle grandmother type turned around in her seat, with a smile, and said something to him that made him shut up and feel like shit. Job well done!
Nine hours and fifteen minutes we landed in Seattle. Sunny and sixty degrees. The next thing I knew I was home and in bed. Alone. And the cat has become my shadow. He will not leave my side. This is not a good thing. So far I have only stepped on him once, but I am sure more times are to come.
Well today I went a touch loco and pruned the roses. Yes, with out gloves. It does not get crazier than that! Later gators!
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