Travel Safely, Dear Butcher

The Butcher is on his way to a wedding of a high school friend.  The suitcase is packed.  The computer is tucked away.  The wet/dry vac is empty and in the car… Oh, no wait…

Today was the most time the Butcher and I have spent together in ages; we’ve been busy in ways that have kept us on conflicting schedules.

But I always miss him when he’s gone.  The house feels empty in a way I find unpleasant.  And I hear every noise like it’s a killer hobo.

I hope he goes and has a good time, and comes home again safely, too.

Dead Bird

I really should be getting in the shower, since I’m supposed to meet Smiley for lunch in an hour and I still have yet to even take the dog out.

But I’m a little in awe of Shauna’s picture of a dead cardinal and so I wanted to point it out to y’all.

This is what I want to say about Shauna’s photography.  I think she’s good at it, but I usually look at her stuff and think, well, yeah, if I had good equipment and a little talent, I could do that.  And then she’ll post a picture like this and I realize, nope.  I couldn’t.

Part of what makes her so good is how deceptively easy she makes it look.  But look at this bird, how it tells you some kind of story about intimacy and fleeting vibrancy and hardness and softness and, you know, if you click on it and go to the flickr comments, Ivy says it reminds her of a vagina.  I don’t quite see that, but I think I get a hint of what she’s getting at, that there seems to be something here that’s sensual and tactile.

You almost want to run your fingers over it just to feel the hard crusty beak in contrast with the soft feathers.  And it does feel like you’re looking at something mysterious and, sadly, miraculous.

I don’t know where the line between good photos and good art is, but I can see that this has landed solidly on the side of art.

I look at that photo and it tells me a story about life in a way that I can’t put into language, in a way I can’t experience other than to look at that photo.

Damn, I like that.

Check this out–  Go ahead.  I’ll be here when you get back. 


In celebration, I updated my cafepress shop with new stuff.  I believe my favorite is the Tiny Cat Pants barbecue apron.

Also, my tip jar is now an actual tip jar, if you’d like to throw a couple of bucks in.  No pressure.  Lord knows I believe it’s tacky to ask for money and the truth is that I probably will just drink it all away instead of using it for new tires or something else constructive and important.

Just so you know.  A new domain name is certainly not going to class up this joint any.  It’ll just make it easier for me to say, hey, yeah, I have a blog and you can find it at

Which will be nice, I think.