Stormy Weather

We have had some rip-snorting weather for the last two days, big thunderstorms, the kind that make you jump.  Three of the house cats are chickens and hide inside the closet downstairs.  The other three can't be bothered; I understand why Gracie doesn't run, she is deaf and can only feel the vibrations. But the other two are nonchalant.  Why is this so odd?  Has to be something from kitten-hood, before we got them.  Anyway, the three scaredy cats eventually venture forth, stretching and all, Hiding, who me?

I have been reading several books by Melissa Olson, fantasy with vampires and werewolves, etc.  That makes them sound pretty juvenile and schlocky but they are a pretty good read.  These have been on my Kindle (instant gratification when ordering a book).  When i went to select one of them, Amazon told me I had already purchased one of them 3 years ago.  When I looked in my archives, sure enough there it was.  I  have no recollection of ever reading it, so there was another "new" book to read.  The problem with finding a new author is that I read faster then they write, so once I have covered all the previous books, I have to wait, sometimes a year or more, for the next installment.  And it leaves me searching for another author.

I was one of the early adopters of the Kindle.  Our actual bound versions of books have been driving us out of the house, one bookcase at a time.  I (guiltily) tossed several hundred books recently, when I gave up on selling them on Abebooks (see the clickable link at the right).  After two years (or more?) I basically paid people to take my books, what with the monthly charge, and the shipping, and it couldn't continue.  We offered them to the library (no) and to the used book store (going out of business) and finally at a flea market (a nickle each; if they didn't have a nickle, then just take them), and had hundreds left.  There are more in the attic, and filling boxes in odd corners of the house, and I can't justify keeping them all.  But I did cringe when we dumped them at the transfer station (trash site).

I went to google maps not long ago, looking at the street view of the house I grew up in.  I wish I hadn't looked.  When I first checked several years ago, the house looked fine, but this time I was sad to see that the chain link fence was gone, as were the awnings, and the windows were boarded shut and worst of all the lush green yard was now scruffy weedy dirt.  I guess it was a defaulted mortgage.  This was in North Miami, and the house was built in the 50s, when my parents moved out of Washington D.C.  I slaved over that yard for all the years I lived there, I swear my mom thought the yard police were coming to arrest her if the yard wasn't pristine.  We also had 3 huge hedges, all had to be cut back to military perfection, and I had the calluses to prove it.  This was before electric hedge trimmers, I should add.  Maybe the house will eventually be opened again, it is built of cinderblock and the roof is tiled, so sitting for a while won't hurt it, I think.

Bumper sticker for the day:  "I like you but if zombies chase us I'm tripping you."