Cold feet

Reminds me I need to get OS X. Cold feet, too, about travel. No, not this fishing trip, the New England run, in June. This weekend, I’m looking forward to lots of sunblock, lots of beach, lots of fish, and lots of nothing else. The simple life. I want to live like my cat, as I watched her yesterday morning. Her goal? Stay awake for a little while after her breakfast. Ma Wetzel ruined the weekend, though, as I was originally set to leave out Thursday night, but she showed up and demanded Mother’s Day time. Scorpio’s just don’t seem to take “no” as an answer. So I collected her at the hotel, wandered off downtown to eat at some fancy place, then — caught Ma Wetzel by surprise — I picked up the check. Burned her a CD with all my latest photos, a home movie, got her a T-shirt with pink flamingos, and dinner. Then, we wandered down to see the shoe shine girl, and see about the latest bid I have for her daughter. What else? Bubba’s old girlfriend was in town, workshopping some new age stuff, and she asks her teacher where to get a good reading. “Kramer? You mean THE Kramer? Kramer Wetzel?” Mars, man alive, is bringing all sorts of old friends together again.