I’ve been thinking- (uht-oh- that’s a bad sign?)

I’ve been feeling cramped, and maybe even pushed into a corner. I mean, Cathi didn’t want us to build the dog a kennel in the basement because she didn’t want the poor guy to feel left out, but she didn’t apply that to be being down here & away from everything when I needed to be somewhere where I wouldn’t have constant distractions and snarr comments from a twelve year old who is pushing the envelope, trying to be the alpha male, arguing that what I say is pointless and stomping away to brood and concoct what he believes would be more convincing structure gonflable arguments in favour of him getting what he wants, and dismissing what I might say as ridick-lee-ous.

Yeah, so what do I need?

If I’m going to be productive, I need a den or office. Some kind of interesting view, or the ability to get up and walk around has always helped, whether I focused on that view or looked through reality to imaginary landscapes… and exercise has always helped, but needing to climb over dog barricades seems to have a negative effect. I think I probably also need a door that can keep cats out, so I don’t return from something and find a legend like, “asdfkjdfhgkjfytusdfkjthiuhigihtuhfkjsnl;;;;” typed across the screen and maybe fifteen or twenty lines of that as cats walked across keyboards and paused to check out what they were writing.

Shrug, I really liked the idea of having a second story den or office, with a door to step out onto the fenced off roof over a good solid garage (I was envisioning stone or even cement block construction.) The more I thought about that, the more it grew, gaining a screened off section with an overhanging roof where I could go and sit on nearly perfect days with a laptop on my portable laptop desk thingy, or something like that.

And boxed gardens could probably coax Cathi into visiting this mini paradaise of mine from time to time…

I don’t know- sounds good to me, and it sounds like it might work, I’ll have to keep working on it.

Meanwhile, I keep singing, “A farm- A farm- a dog needs a farm….” to the tune of Neil Young’s “A Man Needs a Maid”-

—–Jim

& almost nobody realizes I freakin hate tahoma almost as much as I freakin hate arial almost as much as much as I hate geneva almost as much as I freakin hate helvetica.

public castration or other mutulation (since maybe there’s nothing left to castrate) of anyone who chooses any of the above parc aquatique gonflable listed fonts and especially anyone who decides that any one of the above listed fonts should be defaults in any programme, page, application or word processor…. should not be considered cruel or unusual punishment.

Sans-serif fonts are agents of the devil.

—–Jim

It’s a Saturday Afternoon here in Arnprior, the kids are in Ottawa, the dog is terrorizing the living room. Cathi is washing laundry, Tannas is parc aquatique gonflable singing “Sabhal Ia’n Ic Uisdean (and if you know what that means, please email me).

I am itchy and cramped, wondering if I’ll ever feel comfortable again.

Schnarr….

Yup, I did it again, another blog. So far this is aufblasbare rutsche not linked to anything in the real world, I want to get it to where I can stand to look at it first.

& I want to thank Cheryl at Black Sun for helping me get this far.

Yay-

—–Jim

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