Reckons of Crass Construction

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Okay, we don't have a cat. Which means some ravenous, blood thirsty, limb-from-limb stripping, totally heartless animal waited until we were asleep to attack this poor defenseless bird in our flower planter. It was all I could do to hold back a bloodcurdling scream after stumbling upon its withering carcass.


How would you like to encounter a scenario like this on your front porch? Definitely not good for the digestive system. Almost eight hours since I first laid eyes on it and I'm still feeling queasy.

Cleanup suggestions, anyone?

I'm getting ready to go on a short vacation and began tying up loose ends. Emails, laundry, bills and the like, you know, the junk you don't want waiting for you when you return home. And then I realized I hadn't posted anything for today and probably won't post anything tomorrow.

It was time to hit the old Stumble to see if I could get the creative juices flowing. Darned if they didn't. Gosh, I really love this community. It's an easy way to enjoy the fruits of the Internet from a toolbar integrated seamlessly with any web browser. Just look at the bounty from tonight's haul:

I have no idea what this site is or how long anyone can stand staring at the kitty sound screen without being on some kind of hallucinogen. Turbo electric music and revolving cats meow more times than the average person can tolerate. Loads of fun until it starts to piss you off. Stop meowing already!


Stuff I don't want decorating my living room, or for that matter, anywhere near the bathroom. Great for people who love  to knit and mount simulated animal remains on their walls.

Yesterday, I published a teaser for today's explanation of Sunday's "kick in the teeth," or basically ending the day feeling like a wrung out dishrag. That's quite a lot of temporal references for one sentence. I'm not sure I even understand.

Some of you may have returned to read this article because you're the type of person who enjoys juicy gossip, and/or can't stand suspense, and/or turns to the last page of a murder mystery after reading the first few pages. I'm fascinated by this quality of human nature, especially since it's shared by so many.

Have you ever started off a day full of hope and promise only to crawl back into bed feeling like a limp ineffectual dishrag? Better yet, a limp ineffectual dishrag that's been wrung out and reused so many times it's been tossed in the garbage? That pretty much describes my Sunday ... for many reasons which I don't care to recall.

But before I descend into the bowels of darkness, I'd like to dwell for a moment on what might have been.

As I awoke to a clear blue Sunday sky, birds were chirping, sunshine shined, and all appeared right with the world. I left the house silently cheering tolerable heat and humidity, actually looking forward to watering my garden. It was the first morning in quite a while I can remember not wanting to hose myself down. That in itself was reason to celebrate.

Penny, an army wife and my friend at I Could Be Fake, is running a Flashback Friday Bloghop, which I've decided to try. Why not? I was planning on blogging about Artscape anyway.

Here goes.

The last time I went to Baltimore's Artscape, one of the biggest free art shows in America, if not THE biggest, I wasn't expecting very much. A few outdoor exhibits, some local vendors, maybe some interactive play gardens, and of course, the usual free concert performances and indoor theater. Boy was I ever wrong.