The forecast is for a huge winter storm to pound the Oregon coast and points further inland tonight.  The dogs must stay indoors and learn to use the commode.  We will tie the cats’ tails to lead weights to slow them down, thus furnishing the dogs with an enjoyable distraction to their imprisonment.  If they grow bored, the alternative is to go out into the foul weather by myself and let the dogs watch from a window.  I will dig a pair of shallow graves while pausing occasionally to give them meaningful looks.  We will see how quick on the uptake they prove to be.

Unpleasant dog experiences:

1. The Dog Fond of Cat Poop entering the room with a kitty litter moustache

2. Three (3) towels used this evening to clean mud off one hound after the evening’s fetch in the rain

3. Avoiding the impending last call for a doggie bathroom visit while listening to the rain pour down

4. Fostering three small kittens sick with upper respiratory infections and watching the Dog With Inappropriately High Prey Drive whine at the door to the basement where said kittens are residing

Thankfully these and many other traits are more than made up for by the fact that both dogs have remunerative careers outside the house.

When the pipe from the sink is clogged and greasy brown water is backing up into the dishwasher and then onto the floor and liquid plumber doesn’t work, the next step is to get under the sink and take pipes apart randomly until the clog is found and you’ve soaked yourself well. Then put it all back together and mop up the greasy water from the broiled lamb we had last night. And keep pushing the dog away — for the dog it’s all free floor soup and why shouldn’t he get in on that action?

The clog itself was an inch-and-a-half thick plug of congealed grease and various unknowns. I’ll need to get back to the weekly salt-and-hot water treatment of the pipes. I only mention the clog because the sight of it made the Mrs ill, which is understandable, but in the mess I needed something to be proud of and so the clog was my grail.

I also know now what lies beneath the dishwasher, having unmounted it in a fit of exploratory surgery.

I forgot my ipod at home today so am listening to a CD via Windows Media Player.  Now I’m wishing that the ipod showed those nifty ‘visualizations’ on its screen while playing.  Or at least the visualisation called gemstonematrix.

“In the small hours of the night, I was woken by the noise of a cat trying to vomit on my head.  Thank God I was able to fall asleep again.”

 Thankfully in this case said vomit did not land on me and the mess was contained and abated by swift de-contamination techniques.

Last night when I took the dogs out back to play fetch (rather for Vinnie to play fetch; Boris gets involved of games and plots fathomable only by him) there was a lot of fog. So deep that black dogs at night were invisible at the end of the garden. So thick that the lights of 82nd Ave, a few blocks east, glowed like the street was on fire.

Thankfully no possums stalked the shrouded night, tendrils of mist curling around their naked pink tails.

Mrs has been in Ioway but returns today.  This morning as I got out of bed I stepped in cat vomit.  Thus is illustrated how a day can start poorly but is guaranteed to improve.  If there was a daily scheduled return of a loved one, then every day would gain from that certainty of betterment.  Perhaps a specific category of relationship could be developed to effect this – everyone will have a person in their lives who is always arriving and never leaving.

Back from the Midwest. It is odd to join in the experience of major college football; folks flying in and driving in from all over the country, parking in huge fields, tail-gating, guzzling crap beer (right up to the stadium gates, there being no booze allowed inside), then trying to sit on uncomfortable benches. Apparently Notre Dame expanded the seating in their stadium; our guess is they accomplished this by painting the seat number closer together on the benches. There is no way that normal-sized modern adults could sit on those benches with any degree of comfort, or even room to breath. No joke.

Anyway, glad to be back on the Left Coast. Picked up the dogs from the dog hotel, then my father and I walked down to Flying Pie Pizzeria for lunch. The pizzeria is on a one-way portion of Stark Street; we intersected it from the north on 78th. 78th does a bit of a jig at that intersection; the south side is about fifty feet dislocated to the east. Since Stark Street runs east to west, this means you can’t go from north to south on 78th; instead you have to turn right on Stark, go up to 76th (for some reason there’s no 77th in the area) and make your way back to 78th. A pain, certainly, but it’s clearly an illegal move to try and scoot left and across Stark and connect again with 78th. While waiting to cross Stark ourselves I noticed a guy in a pickup stop and signal for a left turn. Since I live in the neighborhood and don’t want to get run over by assholes turning the wrong way on one-way streets, I walked over and gave the best stink-eye and pointed out to the driver the sign that said “right turn only”. So he turned right but was obviously miffed that I had interfered with his convenience.

This Saturday is birthday number Thirty-seven.  But I shan’t be in Portland to blarg about.  Mrs and I are flying to Chicago tomorrow, accompanied by Pater and Sister and Brother-in-Law.  From there we drive to Oak Park, where our hotel is.  From Oak Park we will drive to South Bend.  Itinerary: in Oak Park to revel in things Hemingwayan, him being my father’s favorite writer.  In South Bend, to watch the skirmish between Notre Dame and UCLA; ND is my father’s favorite college football team and my sister and brother-in-law are UCLA season-ticket holders.  Mrs and I are partisans of neither side but fully willing to accept a  free outing to the Midwest.

So this travel means last week’s paltry addition to the current novel is certain to be repeated.  But! I have written through to the End, and know now how the whole things needs to be structured and tweaked to achieve said End.  I now start from the beginning and flesh out the skeleton (and much was left skeletal and sketchy) and do the other tweaking and re-arrangement and re-writing required.  This process should proceed far quicker than the earlier work.  Then I will have a finished draft which I can ask folks to read and offer opinions on.

Since I enjoy conflating randomness with predictive or normative value as much as the next person, herewith another ipod meme makings its was along the infobahn: 

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that’s playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don’t lie and try to pretend you’re cool…

Opening Credits

“Huckle Up Baby,” John Lee Hooker (Graveyard Blues)

Waking Up

“Population 2,” Steel Pole Bathtub (Scars From Falling Down)

First Day at School

“Sitting On Top of the World,” R.L. Burnside (Sound Machine Groove)

Falling in Love

“At the Stake,” The Melvins (Stoner Witch)

Fight Song

“Hangover Heart Attack,” Poison Idea (Dysfunctional Songs for Codependent Addicts)

Breaking Up

“Got You Under My Skin,” Frank Sinatra (Songs For Swingin’ Lovers)

Prom

“It’s A Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock ‘n Roll),” AC/DC  (High Voltage)

Life is Good

“Stank Ass Hoe,” Cypress Hill (Skull & Bones)

Mental Breakdown

“Sgt. Baker,” Primus (Sailing the Seas of Cheese)

Driving

“I Am A Lonesome Hobo,” Bob Dylan (John Wesley Harding)

Flashback

“Wilma’s Rainbow,” Helmet (Betty)

Getting Back Together

“Do That For Me,” Robert Cray (Sweet Potato Pie)

Wedding

“Stoned,” Old 97s (Hitchhike to Rhome)

Paying the Dues

“Starcrossed,” Ash (Meltdown)

The Night Before the War

“Say Hi To The Bad Guy,” Ice Cube (The Predator)

Final Battle

“In My Time of Dying,” Led Zeppelin (Physical Graffiti)

Moment of Triumph

“Gut Feeling,” Devo (The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou)

Death Scene

“Fuckhead 2,” Dwarves (Toolin’ For Lucifer’s Crank)

Funeral Song

“Meltphace 6,” Aphex Twin (Drukqs)

End Credits

“Surfboy,” Underworld (Dubnobasswithmyheadman