Kibbles and Bits, Yet Again

Things Going On At The Loudshoes House Lately.

Last night, as I was diligently working on the computer (read: wasting ginormous amounts of time on "Bookworm") I heard a noise from outside that made me sit up and take notice. (read: stop trying to figure out how to make the word "aquaduct" without a "d".) I went out the back door to see Toby charging after a very slow, but nonetheless, impressively brawny raccoon. This thing was huge, easily the size of a Buick, I'd say, and there was all 9 pounds of Toby, hissing and puffing up and squawking, chasing the raccoon up the locust tree. I stomped on Toby's leash and hauled him inside right quick. Lucky for Toby, that was the dumbest raccoon God ever made, because if he had thought about it for one second, he'd have rounded on Toby and thoroughly kicked his ass. Toby was mightily pissed at me for taking him away from his triumph, but he doesn't have to pay the vet bills, and I do. So there.

I was driving home from the other end of town this afternoon, and while at a red light, looked in my rear view mirror to see my friend Mary Hickey in the van behind me. I start waving and "woo-hoo"ing and generally calling all sorts of attention to myself, and then realize that the bewildered woman behind me is not Mary Hickey after all. But all the other people around me waved.

A young woman I work with went to Saskatchewan last weekend to visit her boyfriend, who's temporarily working in a small town near Saskatoon. (When she told us the town had 250 people in it, another woman I work with remarked that she's been to weddings bigger than that.) She liked the place well enough (said it was just like "Corner Gas") but said that it was fairly unremarkable. One thing she noticed, though, it's so flat that "at night?, you can look straight ahead and still see stars".