The High Point Of My Day

I’m still used to waking up early, and got up without an alarm by 7am today, so I figured I’d make the most of it and troll a bunch of yardsales in my area.

Came up empty on the sales – a nice Starter NY Yankees jacket was the find, but it was a tad too big on me – but at one sale, the family’s Siamese cat wandered among the meager offerings and allowed me some serious pettin’ time.

They told me he loves everyone and loves when they have yardsales, and that was certainly the case. He made sure I took care of every important face petting spot, and then even flipped over on his back for me to give him a belly rub. He was a total attention whore to be sure, but I didn’t want to leave him alone.

I miss my Siamese kitty. So I went to the WHORE DOWN THE STREET for some ACTION.

They told me they found him as a kitten, abandoned in a box at the park down the hill.

So all at the same time, I thought about how some people are total scum and deserve to die, while other people are just plain wonderful.

So, kitty time and no new crap for the packrat pile.

The rest of Saturday will be writing character backstory biographies for Wagstaff 3 so that I can maintain motive continuity later on. Well, that’s how I do it anyway. I can’t speak for other mystery writers.

Chester Gould supposedly dug fake graves in his backyard for the characters he killed off in “Dick Tracy.” I’d love to be THAT crazy, but digging up my yard is too much work, and it’s gonna hit 100 today, looks like.

Indoors. A/C a’runnin’. Yankees then Stanley Cup Game 3. Sounds like a plan.

The only reason to go back out would be to pet the cat again.