Ten days of this is too much but the winter is young and I fear this isn't the last of the cold we will have to live through before Spring.
Monday, January 11, 2010
We were walking in the pine woods of Big Pine and Cheyenne was rooting around with even more vigor than usual. All I could hear was the rustling of thatch palms and the deep throated snort of a Labrador sniffing for all she was worth. I suspect the homeless who make their camps in the woods are not as neat and tidy as I try to be in my compulsive way. When I was younger and slept where I could when I traveled I left no sign of my illegal camping and disappeared on the road before the suburban populace woke up. Locally people who sleep rough leave their lives out for all to see (and get pissed off about). Here I found their bike repair shop apparently. She may possibly have found their larder, I hope, or more likely their dump. We did not exchange kisses for a good few hours after that walk. I'd rather not know.
With my keen appreciation for the irony of the human condition I rather liked this weathered sign flapping off a rusty nail in the middle of a tatty boundary fence. "Permanent, Self Adhesive Vinyl All Weather Durability" is what it says. The advertising meets specs, but the original message of the sign (No Something, of course) has been lost to the ravages of time.
It seemed rather bold in the face of most people's desire to simply get fit or quit smoking or something mundane. I think I'd like to come back as a mid level Goldman Sachs executive thanks, and pick up large annual bonuses for doing God's work.
I saw one of these badges quite by accident recently:
I have to confess I have taken a nauseatingly large number of pictures of Cheyenne and they have to go somewhere. This is after all a diary of some sort for me and by extension, of her.