"The stars are threshed, and the souls are threshed from their husks."

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

The Blessing of the Animals

The opossums are not killing the tom cats at the farm, despite my mother's theories. Owls. Bobcats. Coyotes. Motherfucking mountain lions. But not opossums.

These opossums are changed, she says, remember that they killed the chickens.

There were no witnesss to this crime, but mom is convinced it happened. It might have. It's almost a crime not to kill chickens, really. They are asking for it.

In other news, Mom took Billy Bad-Ass, our stray goat, to the Epsicopal Church she attends along with a lop rabbit named Bouncy Butt on the day reserved for the blessings of the animals. She just put his front feet onto the back of the Durango and then pushed him in and closed the hatch. He's a very bright goat.

An old woman was observing the line of dogs ready to receive the blessing with holy water (cats, somehow, aren't nearly as common) in which Billy was included. She tottled over to Billy, came within two feet of him, and then said:

"That's not a dog at all, is it?"

I haven't left California yet, but I really don't miss it at all.


At 11:23 PM, Blogger sarah said...

Funny that's your sentiment on a day when I woke up with the mild CA sun shining on my face and thought "How can I ever leave this?"

At 12:37 AM, Blogger Whim said...

You've gone soft. Who would have ever thunk it. My, my, my.

Not that I'm immune to that idea. I just save it for sitting at the pub, listening to old guys argue bizarre political theories, drinking a free beer, smoking my pipe...

Kansas has more days of sunshine than the bay area, anyway, though I guess it's not always 'mild'.

did any of that make sense? i'm a sleepy william

At 9:48 AM, Blogger sarah said...

I *have* gone soft, without a doubt. Used to be I'd break my ass to show up to work on time! Now I know that my supervisor probably won't be there on time either. And if (s)he is there, they'll just look at me and shrug disinterestedly if I apologize. This is California.

The pub usually is what gives me those feelings. It's rarely sunshine that triggers it. That's why I knew yesterday was dangerous. And the Kansas sun is not the CA sun, I think that much is clear. That's like comparing Glinda to the Wicked Witch.

At 12:02 PM, Blogger Whim said...

But Sarah, Glinda sucks! She's an annoying kewpi-voiced condescending--and pointedly ineffectual--fairy-winged twat.

The wicked witch, on the other hand, commands an army of flying monkeys and gets. shit. done.

I think you've forgotten thunderstorms.


Post a Comment

<< Home