Hands back to the Ground.

San Jon, New Mexico.

I sort of love that some of the oldest technology in the world will become the savior of the energy crisis.


It comes in threes. First, Annie, then Mohammad, now Oliver Twist, my mother's dear fat cat has gone missing in Edgewood. This is not the place you want to loose a cat. He'd been roaming around a little outside, in an effort to curb the heartbreak of losing his brother Mohammad a few months ago. He didn't come home Thursday night. Both Kyle (who earns immense bonus points for his efforts in Operation Oliver) and I combed the land around my mom's on Friday and today, no trace of him at all. We also posted fliers all over town and the neighborhood. Fingers and toes are crossed.

When my family moved to Raton from Edgewood, my beloved dogs Fred and Sally escaped from a kennel by gnawing through chainlink fencing. Fred, our wild black lab, was found a week and a half later, skinny and begging for food. Sally, my malamute/german shepherd cross, was found six weeks later, waiting patiently for us to come home, in front of a gate that looked exactly like that of our former home.

So, the point is, my family is capable of pet recovery miracles. I hope most that somehow, Oliver will make his way back to my mom's house. But, a lot of my hope has turned to him not suffering, where ever he is. I'm glad it's warmer tonight.

My body's crying for a road trip. Being paid for not going to work and low gas prices make it very possible that I will next update my blog in Oklahoma. Or Kentucky. Or Michigan. Or Wyoming.

(Oh yeah, thumb's healing up okay. It's sort of gross and smells pretty bad. You try not washing your thumb for 8 days and see how awesome it looks.)