Ferris is playing this game:
1. She picks up the soggy remains of her rawhide bone, and drops it on the ground.
2. She backs up, tail wagging, and stares at it.
3. She growls at it, then lunges forward, picking it up as she runs around the living room.
4. She brings it to me, and drops it in my lap.
5. I say, “that’s really interesting, Ferris,” and drop it on the floor, where she picks it up, and takes it back to the middle of the room.
Then she goes and does the whole thing again.
See, Anne went up to Oregon this weekend, and the kids are with their dad, so it’s just me and Ferris hanging out. This is how we entertain ourselves in the absence of any real responsible people around.
It’s actually a good weekend for me to take a break, because I’ve been writing and re-writing pretty much non-stop since last Friday –dramatic pause– and I finished my first draft of my book on Thursday. It went off to my editor yesterday morning, and I’m anticipating doing some rewrites next week.
I’m really excited about it, and I hope to have a limited first printing ready in time for Xmas. I’ll post details when I get it all worked out.
The weekend so far:
I went with some friends to see Die Another Day last night at the Arclight. I’m not an action movie guy at all, but I love James Bond, and this is easily the best Bond picture I’ve seen in maybe five years, aside from some inexcusably terrible miniature and FX work, the script is fun, paying tribute to some of the my favorite Bond pictures.
This morning, I went on a hike with my brother and my friend Mykal. We were hoping to find the Dawn Mine Geocache, but we couldn’t even get on the right trail to the damn mine before we ran out of time and had to get back to the car. We went up to a beautiful waterfall, though.
Oh, and last week, when I took the kids to find the Geocache at Rubio? Yeah. I walked RIGHT. FUCKING. THROUGH. Poison oak. It is all over my right forearm, my left bicep, my forehead, on my left knee, my neck, and my right ankle. I think I qualify for some sort of “complete dumbass” award for not seeing it.
Lame.
The really cool thing, though, is that I sort of look like one of those guys in “Scanners” right before they blow up. And kind of like pictures of the moon. And also sort of like an alligator…but a scary X-files mutant alligator from hell who shoots death beams out of his eyes and creeps out of your bathtub at night to suck your skin off, and sing Copacabana in your living room.
I read somewhere that massive itching can make one go a little batty…but I don’t believe it.