Dang (To quote my favorite soldier)

I meant to be better about writing this dang blog. [Sigh]

Maybe I'll even figure out how to post a picture on this thing. I am soooo not techno-savvy.

Short post today. Just gonna bitch about being self-employed. Ready or not, here it comes.

My 10 am apt forgot about me, so I had to run errands for a half hour. My noon apt cancelled at 10. My last apt is gonna confirm sometime today that he will be able to make his 5 pm time slot. I am driving to him and schlepping my stuff as well, which means my 1 hour apt will more than likely take close to 2 hours, minimum. (Sigh) At least I figured out how to use my phone credit card reader with a regular client who doesn't mind me making an ass of myself as I muddled through the program.  : )

I am in week 8 of an 8 week online poetry class. I am behind because I was running around like a muppet (Grover, of course) for 5 days. And my body betrayed me by succumbing to another effing sinus infection.  Damn auto-immune crap.

And so, I have 5 critiques to make up, need to write my last poem and have 5 more critiques to look forward to in the next week. I can do it!

Now, what lovely photo am I gonna upload now?

It's a iPhone closeup of a tree I turned around in order to photo, then realized I had left my Nikon at home.  Again.  So, it's not the greatest...

Some background behind the name of this blog

I grew up in the Alaskan Bush in the 70s and early 80s, before the state took over all the school systems.  My parents taught for the Bureau of Indian affairs for more than 20 years, from the early 60s to the early 80s. 

I was raised in the Yukon-Kuskowim Delta, residing in various villages, though my family lived everywhere from Barrow to Bethel.  Technically, I did too, but I didn't experience much as an egg.

Kimik is the Yu'pik word for dog. I only remember one husky named Kimik growing up, though my Mom says there were at least a couple before him. 

Fast forward to the Blizzard of '93, when I was a senior in college.  Not sure who-all remembers that blizzard which blanketed much of the east coast and brought life to a standstill.  Imagine, a female cat escapes from the house and survives the storm by making sweet love with a wild tomcat.   A couple of months later, I made the mistake of telling the owner of the slutty cat that I would take a kitten if he could not find anyone else.  To someone trying to get rid of unwanted kittens, that means I just got rid of a kitten!

Of course I named the cat Kimik, because that's what my family always named pets.  OK, it was the first choice of names.  And it amused me to have a cat named "dog".   Little did I know that cat would be the most dog-like cat I'd ever know.  He was vocal, affectionate, & very jealous of other pets.  And would sit on your lap basking in your attention for as long as you'd let him. 

Just before I moved to the west coast in the spring of '94, I dropped Kimik and another cat off at my sister's house -- temporarily.  She called me about a year later to say that I could no longer claim ownership, because she'd had them longer than I had by that time.  The cats sent me a T-shirt when I had my salt water tank.  You have to see the shirt to get the joke.  I'll post it here, eventually.

It was years later, after my new dog, Scully*, and I moved in with her, her husband and three cats did I get tested and realize I was allergic to cats.  I lived there for 3 miserable years, averaging a sinus infection about every 2-3 months. 

And that's the abbreviated story behind A Cat Named Dog.

* She was named Scully because Kimik was still alive.  You can't give the same name to two pets living at the same time.