I need to read more

Never thought of it this way until now:  the first season of a TV show tells its story across the episodes.  If the show continues, subsequent seasons are sequels, and how many sequels are as good as the original?  Having Netflix has given me an opportunity to watch some shows that I ignored the first time around, such as Bojack Horseman, 30 Rock, and The Good Place.  It might have been Mark Evanier or Ken Levine who wrote it, but the way I remember it, the way they put it was that after the first season, the team responsible for a show looks at each other and said, "What do we do now?"  And it shows.

What I do (and did)

Today from Pop Cultch Gulch:

- More tagging photos with Adobe Bridge

- A half-hour of A Hard Day's Night

- A few minutes of Trading Places (Ralph Bellamy, 40-plus years after The Awful Truth, which I also watched this week)

- Put on Sparks' Balls and Li'l Beethoven while at work

- Figuratively thumbed through the entries in my Feedly feed

- Listened to chapter 7 of The Great Gatsby while playing Fishdom 2

Another week

Friday, and a payday, so I've got that much going for me...

After the little black pooshka began hanging around, there were a few other cats who stopped by.  One of them, the big ol' creampuff with orange and white fur, seemed to win the pooshka's paw in mate-ship.  We saw the two of them together regularly on the deck, and occasionally elsewhere.  Once he sat at the rear of the property after eating to wait for her to finish a meal and clean up afterward, and then she walked to him and they left together.  

Another time I followed him with my eyes after he walked away, and he crossed the street onto another family's property.  Then from his right, the pooshka ran up to him and they walked together out of my sight.

This doesn't have a happy ending, though.  He would appear some evenings, battered and bloody.  Eventually, he stopped appearing at all.  For a couple of days, neither did the pooshka, and I'd like to think she stayed with him until he didn't need her anymore.

So now the pooshka comes to us alone.  But that doesn't mean she's the only cat who visits now.  There's the shy gray guy who sprints away if he detects the presence of any human.  

And recent days, there's another tom.  This one has a mostly orange head and a completely orange tail, and in between is a white body with a few small blotches of orange.  I've broken the rule against naming visitor cats and dubbed him Blott, after the Tom Sharpe novel.  

The first couple of times Blott visited, he was as wary as either of the other two toms, the creampuff and the shy gray guy, but last night was different.  He saw me through the back door and turned to walk away, but after a few steps, he stopped, regarded me with greater distance, and walked back to eat some more of the little black pooshka's food.   

Tonight, it was warm enough to keep the back door open, and so the fresh-air loving pooshkateers were all gathered at the screen when Blott arrived.  Meows came from outside and were countered with low growls from Kit and Nelson.  Blott sized up the situation and decided to follow his stomach instead of his instincts.  

When he finished the leftovers we'd set out for the pooshka, he turned to her freshly-opened can of tuna Fancy Feast, and that's when I stood up so he could see me.  Blott stared, then turned and dashed down the steps and into the darkness. 

For now, anyway.

Another sign of spring

The maple trees in our front yard have been bare for months, and when that bare time stretched into March it was concerning, but now recent warmer weather has them beginning the yearly greening-up process all over again.  

Coming Attraction

 Well, all righty then...

A new season of You Must Remember This begins in a month.

A little something different

Accessed audio books for Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and I Would Be Doing This Anyway.  Planning on canceling Kindle Unlimited before the 2-month free trial is up.  There may be audio books, but not much I'm interested in, and what there is is mighty hard to find.  Now, if I'm willing to shell out $15 a month, Audible promises the earth, moon, and stars.  I'm not yet persuaded.

A sunny spring day, warm enough that I walked around the entire oval of the development, a few hundred yards.  Nice to be able to do it without pain or fatigue.  Times like this, I forget that I was born during the 1st Eisenhower Administration, when the U.S. flag still had only 48 stars.  

Began watching The Awful Truth, but paused it 20 minutes in and didn't get back to it.  But I have the day off tomorrow.  

All that, and the usual news reading, the Post, the Times, and Le Monde.  

Good day to grill pork chops.  I know, because that's what I did.  

Still here

Whole Foods, Wegmans, home.  Baked cookies.  Washed the dishes. Watched some Minnesota-Iowa.  Made pizza.  Made the bed. Loved on Good Queen Swirly.  Fed the little black pooshka.