Sunday Ennui

[rejectomorph]

My cat is staring at me. She's looking quite bedraggled, with the fur on her head somewhat spiked. The punked-out kitty look is usually the result of static electricity in the air, but there isn't much in the air today, so I don't know what's up with her. If she comes home with a nose ring, I'll start to worry.

There was some sort of event in town this weekend. Out for a walk yesterday evening, I saw hand-made signs by the side of the roads reading "Garden Tour." Little arrows pointed out turns. A few houses had signs in their front yards, too. There was nothing special that I could see about any of their gardens, and I didn't see anyone who looked as though they might be touring. Maybe it was too late in the evening. I have no idea what any of that was about, either. It's remarkable how out of touch I can be with everything that goes on around me. I'm much more familiar with the trees and deer and raccoons in this place than I am with the human population and its customs. I sort of bump up against the town now and then, but have very little to do with it. I'm a bad citizen.

Comments

[marseille.livejournal.com]

I'd say lucky you, but, look again at your previous post. Of course, the lost posts in the clipboard might bridge the gap, if they were found.
I live in the dreaded suburbs, and definitely don't belong here. I would probably feel too isolated in the country, though.