As I mentioned previously, I am on zee west coast sans-computer cord until my bearded companion and I head to New Mexico next week and I receive the package Dear Sarah has sent to Dear Erin. (Because I am forgetful and harried when I startle awake in 100 degree heat in a bed with two beloved ones forty-five minutes before my bus to Baltimore is to depart AND IT TAKES FORTY-FIVE MINUTES TO GET THERE.)
So, as to be economic with CompuBattery, I investigated mobile catblogging onthego ON MY PHONE which is quite a horrifying thing, especially considering when I began this blog in New Zealand nearly three years ago we didn’t have a phone at all until our friend Alex went back to America and left us with his, a little silver pay-as-you-go thing with about $1 credit on it that Jake used up texting Ken about going to fly kites (this phone also had a game on it called Go Hamster which brought Jake hours of mysterious amusement). So this post is a trial run of this method. Please, excuse any typos my clumsy fingers may make. (ALSO: I CAN NOW RECEIVE PICTURE MESSAGES; open the mobile cat floodgates.)
So I am here, in the quiet pale-light bunkhouse waiting for everyone else to be awake, listening to the breathing of all of these people who are related, connected by blood and memory.
We have found some cats.
These delightfuls are from a trip Madre, Ingrid, Emma and I took into town to poke around Pacific Grove’s secondhand treasures/drink enormous glasses of wine/eat enormous bowls of chowder. Following this event we went into a Golden Girls coma, as all good days should/might end.