Wednesday, March 6, 2013


This being Spring Break season, and the Kitten being imbued with an historic wanderlust, my women have decamped for twelve days on travels to North Africa and Europe.  I, my faithful dog, and the two cats are charged with holding down the fort against all enemies, foreign and domestic.  We shall muddle through.

Muddling through operations began last night with a poker game.  One of the pillars of our community has a monthly poker game, to which I am faithfully invited but at which I rarely appear.  Generally this is due to either my travel schedule or being late in DC and not being able to make the start.  But last night, all the cosmic tumblers clicked into place and I was able to join in.  A great group of fellows and a fine time.  Because of the weather, we were indoors, so no cigars.  There is talk that next month's game is likely to be out of doors.

Our first challenge is the Snowquester storm, which appears to be dumping snow on parts west of Washington DC but leaving us here on the Eastern Shore just wet and windy.  I stocked up on essential provisions last night (sourdough pretzels, potato chips, trail mix, tortilla chips) to fortify myself in the event I am cut off from the world.

Although I am of course, bereft when the women-folk leave me, there are certain upsides.  For instance, the refrigerator gets a thorough field-day, hastening the removal of half-eaten Panera sandwiches, pizza boxes,  "well seasoned" avocados, past their prime grapefruits, various fast-food salad dressing conveyances, and other items likely to escape the eagle eyes of others who might have an interest in the contents of our chill box.  Order has returned, though I was sure not to throw away things I believe without merit (cashew butter?) but which are close to the heart of my Kitten. 

Of great interest to me and faithful Baloo is something I discovered whilst picking up cat food yesterday at the vet (delicate renal systems, these cats).  Every day from noon to three PM is "Yappy Hour" in the large, fenced yard at the vets!  Oh my.  Baloo will not know his good fortune when I pile him into the Jag tomorrow for the ride there and his date with new four-legged friends.  There is little in the universe more joyful than watching Baloo gambol with other dogs.  And it is a particularly effective way to tire the hell out of him.

I've decamped from the ManCave to the kitchen for today, for while I love the ManCave, it is indeed a bit cave-like in its lighting.  The kitchen is bright and airy, and so the laptop set atop the kitchen table enables productivity and beauty as I watch the whitecaps whip up on the Miles River in my backyard. 


"The Hammer" said...

In my youth I wanted to go to the Atlas Mountains and sample the keef. Apart from that, North Africa can get along fine without me.

BigFred said...

My Dismounts depart for a triathlon in Florida, dog(!) to boarding camp, and I get to old school field day the fridge. I do not respect the cashew butter, or the fig jam that has been half eaten since before the current President was elected. I'm going to "Sherman through Georgia" on the clutter.

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