Some of you must have noticed by now the fact that I've not posted of late. There have been several reasons for that, but the most important one is that I've had some changes in my life. More on this later. But the point is that I'm going to resolve to become a more regular poster.

I think the focus of the blog will change a bit. I started it as more of a story-telling/philosophical musing sort of journal, but that theme got hijacked the same day the planes that crashed into the WTC did.

I felt then that I had to do my part, however insignificant it surely was, to support the effort to take down the Taliban, and then Saddam.

While the victory is not compleat, the war is over. We won. This victory will in time change the face of the Middle East. It will take time, but it will happen.

While I'm sure I'll comment on politics and foreign affairs from time to time, I'm not really interested in letting it be the main focus of the site.

I've got, no kidding, hundreds of pics I've shot I'd like to post, of everything to concerts and renfests to the shjoots I've done of model wannabees, and dozens of tales to tell. So, back to regularly scheduled programming...

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I'm still alive, but my machine is not - seems a virus ate it. Have not checked email for about four days - most likely the longest hiatus since 1987 - feels like half my brain has been removed - I'm actually relying on TV and radio for news - how 1980's. So, I'm not dead, and will return to the online world soon, as soon as I can get one of the backup machines up and running on broadband...

I'm posting this from a local cybercafe at $18 per hour... :-(

only three minutes left...

Lost my cell phone, this week, too, waiting on the replacement, so I can't even call anyone... sucks to be me.

Will one of you that is a dubber forward this info - thanks in advance...

bye....

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A few minutes ago, I opened the door to the office. Out in the hallway, the three cats and Shelby were standing in a circle around the cold body of one of the newborns.

I know that kitten was not stillborn - I saw and heard it mewling. I reached under the bed and pulled the other one out - it was dry and warm - obviously Rusty had cleaned it off. The dead kitten was still wet and clammy. Had she never cleaned it, or was it wet from her/their attempts to revive it? I can't say.

I cleaned it up in the bathroom sink, running warm water over it, drying it in a towel, looking, hoping, for a spark of life.

Nothing.

It's just a fucking cat - a dime a dozen, and I'm a hard-ass former Marine that's seen comrades maimed and killed. I eat meat, I hunt, and I once put down my own dog.

So somebody explain to me why I'm crying...

Little fucker never got a chance...

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