Midnight: the ancient father

When I first moved back to texas in 2005, there was this crazy, stubborn, suicidal cat that would lay in the drive way. He never moved unless you got out and tried to pet him. You couldn’t shoo him away, you actually had to get down and try to pet him to be able to park without killing him.

I’ve taken to calling him midnight since no one ever saw him during the day for years.  Now he’s old, sick, and adores attention.

We don’t know who he belongs to. Hell come around from time to time, sometimes hanging around every night for weeks on end, only to disappear for a few months, then randomly stop in for dinner.

This has been one of those months where he seems to come by every night after not being around for a few months.  He has a few more scars he seems t have traded for his teeth.  We do know someone was taking care of him at some point since he looks to have been hit by a car, then taken to a vet.

His fur is matted. He doesn’t breathe well. But he still comes up to be petted in his greasy, dirty head.

It makes me sad that this sweet cat doesn’t have someone to cuddle up with. It makes me angry someone would just let him run around matted and malnourished. Why bother having the cat taken care of after running it over if you aren’t going to care for it yourself?

Midnight is a testament to things I think we’ve lost as humans, wallowing in our technology. We expect everything to be handed to us. We expect our cars to run, our air conditioners to cool us in summer, our meals to be simple. We’ve forgotten that it’s only from perseverance we’ve managed to accomplish so much. We’re not entitled to anything, from anywhere, for any reason.


Take a tip from Midnight. He knows how easily life can be taken.

Get off your ass and do something.


Today’s Post Brought to You by the Letters B and S

Someone stank up the bathroom before I got in here. And now someone’s waiting outside.

They’re gonna think it was me. But, I swear, my poo doesn’t smell like that. My poo smells like ice cream and flowers.


But, hey, at least they managed to poo INSIDE the toilet. Always a plus.

Happy Friday!

So, today’s my Friday. I’m excited for that. It means I can sleep in. And, boy, do I want to sleep in. Which means I’ll probably wake up around six. It’s sad when 6am is sleeping in. I’m generally getting up when everyone else is leaving the club.

So I wonder: what should I do tonight? Anything?

I’m open to suggestions…

And, as a side note: food always tastes better when the boss buys it.


She was so tired she just sort of fell over. That’s about how I feel.


Ew Ew Ew Ew Ew Ew!

Baths. Are. Gross.

They say baths are relaxing. A nice, warm bath will help prepare you for sleep.

The only thing a bath is good for is sitting in your own filth. What, I should marinate myself for the monster under the bed? “Mmmm,” said the monster, “Uriah stew! Fresh from the tub, even!’

Stupid stupid stupid

So I took time out of my very busy day (and tight sleep schedule) to write a lovely little blog post and stupid WordPress for Android is telling met blog doesn’t exist. Yay.

So here’s a random picture from my iPhone.


A Bit of Fall in the Summertime


Between the agave nectar and the Brown sugar, this pie is sweet enough for even the most hardened sugar fiend. Although I think for the next berry pie I make I will certainly process and strain the skins out of the filling before baking. They’re a bit tough. Perhaps it’s from using frozen berries? Any advice from more seasoned pie bakers?



Despite what my dating history might suggest, I have a love for sweet things. Ice cream, cake, and, of course, a good fruit pie. And for the past year I’ve had an almost irresistible craving for blueberry pie.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to find blueberry pie in this town?

Frustrated wanting drives productivity, apparently.


It was a simple recipe I found through a quick search. Not having white sugar I used Brown, and unable to find cinnamon amongst the myriad seasonings in my cabinet, I used pumpkin pie spice, so it’s a Summer pie with a lovely hint of Autumn.


I haven’t baked a pie in years, so I made a few mistakes, but hopefully it will still taste as lovely baked as it did sitting in the bowl.  Even if it is a little dark around the edges.


But aren’t we all?