red touch yellow, kill a fellow
Bizarre dream in which I had been bitten by a coral snake (Micruroides euryxanthus). I hate this unsettled state of disassembling my life, or at any rate its material components. Moving is fine once you actually are moving, once you're on the open road towing your chattels behind you; you feel the sense of exploration, discovery, newness. But the preparation is murder.
The goodbyes have begun. Friday night I went up to Phoenix to see the Marlowe family, which of late has grown larger with the addition of a) Emma, and b) a tiny black kitten they found under a creosote bush. It had been abandoned on the roadside and was living off crickets, starving to death. Three days of regular meals had improved its condition considerably and I was very tempted to take it with me, but since I am already in a committed relationship with another cat I relinquished any claim after receiving an assurance that it would not be taken to the Humane Society unless it had hantavirus or something.
Steve has a lot of hair these days.