I’m Not Bright, but Bright Red

I’ve just been so sleepy all afternoon and kind of annoyed by that, considering that, even if it was hotter than when we normally walk, we didn’t walk but ten minutes farther than we do every day.

But I just caught sight of myself in the mirror and I am sunburnt.


I’m working my way through Carter Beats the Devil which is slow-going. I’m trying to start to piece together what I’d like to work on next since that’s the advice they give you, when you’re waiting on one thing, start on the next. And I’m waiting on the novel, and waiting to hear about “Frank,” and waiting to unveil “The Witch’s Friend.” I’ve got some things percolating, but nothing really forming itself yet.

And that’s pretty much it. The Butcher is out for the evening, so I’m going to have to do the cat myself. I am not excited about that.

And Yet, Debra Maggart is Still in Office

Debra Maggart says:

Last fall, voters throughout the nation signaled they wanted a fundamental change in how government operates. From Washington to Nashville, a clear message was sent that government needed to scale back to its constitutional roots and remove itself from the equation so the private sector can take the lead once more in providing jobs for Americans.

Of course, if we return to our country’s roots, Maggart can’t vote or run for office. And yet, even as she urges others to return to said roots, you don’t see her resigning from the state legislature or turning in her voter’s registration card, do you?

Funny how that works.

Cooler Does Not Mean Cool

The cat had her follow-up visit with the vet. She has to continue her hydrotherapy until the wound closes up completely, but she’s done with the oral antibiotics. And she got her vaccines. They’re only doing the upper respiratory vaccines every three years now and she says she thinks they’ll soon recommend only doing rabies every three years. She says the problem is that you’re required by law to vaccinate for rabies every year, so even if the recommended standard changes, it’ll be a while before the legal standard does.

When I got home, I got read the riot act by Mrs. Wigglebottom who could not believe I’d go somewhere–even to the vet–without her. So we went out to Bells Bend, since the weather is cooler than it has been all summer.

And then we were both like “Oh my god, is there not someone we can call to come get us?!” when we were about halfway through our walk. It would have been okay in the shade, but there’s not (yet) a lot of shade to be found at that park. The dog is wiped out. She could barely lift her head to get her treat at Sonic, which I found to be shameful.

But, honestly, I’m sitting here thinking “Okay, if I get up to pee now, does that mean I don’t have to get off the couch until Monday?”

New Kitty is asleep in her favorite chair, recuperating from her trip to the vet.

I will say this for my vet–she is amazingly fearless and I think that’s part of why she’s so good. Since our cats are indoor/outdoor, they get wormed. And the vet just popped open the cat’s mouth, shot the pill right down her throat and then scraped some pasty crap right up the top of the cat’s mouth. Cat was too startled to even complain.

But it made me wonder. Do cat’s have Jacobson’s Organs? I thought I saw a weird opening at the top of the cat’s mouth. Ooo, according to Wikipedia, they do! And we may even have vestigial Jacobson’s Organs ourselves. That’s cool. I will now spend the afternoon willing mine to start functioning again.


One thing I find myself mulling over whenever I read feminist (or other social justice) blogs is that there is a fine line between metaphor as enlightening and metaphor as useless. But lately, I’ve also been thinking about the critique of metaphor.

And I don’t know how to get at this distinction exactly, but it seems to me that there are two negative responses to metaphors: either the metaphor is not quite right and therefore really doesn’t illuminate some part of the issue (a very useful critique, I think) or the metaphor is not quite right and we all must figure out what the right metaphor would be, with this bizarre urgency.

I’m starting to suspect that the bizarre urgency is because we still believe that, if only we could figure out exactly the right way to state our case, we’d get what we want. And yet, surely, by this point, we must suspect that it’s not that the people holding out on us don’t know what we want, it’s that they don’t want to give it.