I Don't Do Dead 'Possums

John's band has another gig tonight. We loaded up the drum riser in his band van this afternoon, and he drove off to the Cowlitz County Expo Center where he's playing after a $100 a plate fundraiser for the Women's Health Pavilion. After he left James discovered the van had been hiding a 'possum. A dead 'possum (possibly preferrable to a live 'possum.) Yuck.

Bob, our self-proclaimed alpha-cat, came home with a chunk bitten out of his neck a couple of days ago. Since then he's been a bit less bold and hearty than usual, sticking around the house, looking like the cat-eating-monkeys are waiting around every corner for him. I'm wondering if he tangled with the 'possum. Stranger things have happened. I'm just thankful that he hasn't been using the pet door since we got the puppies. Not that long ago he dragged a dead blue jay into the house in the dead of night and left it in Audrey's room. That was shock enough. I'm waiting for John to come home. I've decided disposing of dead wildlife is man-work. I will also refrain from photographing the dead 'possum.

Instead, here's a picture of my scarf from my cable class...



The natural light has been pretty awful, and things lose definition with a flash, but the alternative is to not post pictures until. . .??. . .March?? June?? I'm beginning to appreciate why so many Northwesterners take their Hawaiian vacations in the winter.