random thoughts

My farm is really beautiful at first light.  I like to sit in my big ugly green chair in the study and look out the window at this giant ivy covered tree as the light changes around it.  My pal, Otis, lives there.  He is a young raccoon.  You think you have an active night life?  Well Otis is the man.  Often he is coming home while I’m getting up.  Some days, when I have the windows open, I talk to Otis.  I ask him about his night, the best places to hang out, if he ever thinks of “settling down”.  Otis isn’t really much of a talker but he can convey a lot of info with just a look.  That’s just the way raccoons are.  They aren’t known for their conversations.  They revel in the whole, aloof thing.  

Tonight we had a tornado.  Nothing bad happened here but the show was really impressive.  Green sky, roaring wind, very, very creepy.  In addition to that I had another episode of “what the hell is that smell?”  This time the smell was a dead possum.  Now normally that’s merely a bummer for the possum and a minor nuisance for me.  But today it was hot.  Very hot.  So when I got home to the dead thing it had spent the day bloating in the sun.  A big part of that involves making a smell.  The smell was HORENDEOUS.  I have moved the deceased beast away but it still stinks.

Later,
Sam