Guess what? My Sunday school teacher wants us to memorize a verse. We all suck at it. I have it memorized well enough that I can finish it if someone starts it. Sad, isn't it? What he doesn't know is that last month when we were studying some stuff in Matthew, I memorized one of the verses from that: Matthew 24:28 "Wherever there is a carcass, there the vultures will gather." I think that will come in handy at some point, don't you?
Evidently, prohibition has finally been repealed in Fake Cow County. The resolution passed by 36 votes yesterday. Next year we may consider whether or not to recognize Hawaii as the 50th state.
Really and truly, I love living here. Seriously. It's flat and dry and often ugly, but it is so fabulously weird. The people here are wonderful and deranged and outrageously uptight while being explosively unrepressed. If you've never spent any time here, you are really missing out. In a lot of cases, the wheel is still spinning, but the gerbil is dead. So many of the local gentry are true salt of the earth types, but once you get to know them, you realize how nutty we really are. And what makes us even more fun is that we have no idea that the rest of the world doesn't think exactly the same way we do.
Been a bit tired lately. Winter always cuts down a lot on what I get accomplished. I tend to follow the rhythms of the light. When it's dark outside, it's dark in my house and when it's dark, I sit and read or watch TV or go to bed. When it's light, I work and create and occasionally clean. If I have something really pressing that simply must get done on winter evenings, I have to turn on every light in the house as soon as I get home, so that it never gets dark until I'm finished.
Illumination, when it's artificial, generally makes me crazy. I hate, hate, hate overhead lighting. Despise it. Makes my skin crawl. I have no idea why. Lamps are the way to go. Even it if takes 15 of them to light up your project.
Last night I started to entertain the notion that Doofus Archie had finally met his untimely demise. I assumed he had succumbed to Death-By-Coyote. This morning I went outside to see if my backyard was still there. (It is, despite long neglect.) I heard yowling from the alley and looked up to see Archie threading his way through the gap in the fence. He wallered and yowled all the way across the yard and into the house. Seriously, from the look on his face, I think he'd been lost and forgotten where we live. What a doofus.