Sunday, January 18, 2004

I'm surprised anyone thinks these stories of mine are funny! I just calls 'em as I see 'em. The chickens are there, the cats are there, the pookah is there...I have mentioned that we have a pookah, didn't I? Well, actually, it's mine...or anyway it has followed us here from Arizona. It's not a 6' tall rabbit by the way. Pookahs can take any form, like most of the fay race. This one is a very large grey cat, about 2 foot tall. It hangs out on the edge of vision, usually in the hallway. We've had people drop in and sit in the living room chatting when suddenly they'll stop and stare at the hall entrance. Then they ask me how many cats we own. Well, first off I correct them about "owning" a cat....cats are room mates. Then I tell them we have two calicoes and one black and white. They sit for a minute, thinking, and then they ask, "No grey cat?" To which i reply, "Oh, you must mean the pookah! I'm not sure if he lives here or just visits, but he seems to spend a lot of time in the hallway...." It seems to make some folks nervous. This is not unusual for me. Back in 1975 my brother-in-law, Teddy, was killed in a terrible car accident in SF. He had half his head torn off when the car flipped over a few times. He wasn't wearing a seat belt. Teddy is one of my spirit guides now and has been known to visit when I really am at my last piece of rope, like when Jon got hurt. One time a friend came to visit and spent the night. The next morning he came down the hall and asked me if I had been playing bagpipe music during the night. He said all night he's been dreaming that he was in a woods, chasing a bagpiper thru the trees. Everytime he thought he'd caught up he'd hear pipes a little further off. I told him that must have been Teddy. Teddy was an excellent piper, even cut a single recording with Capital records once...in a rock and roll band! He asked me if Teddy wore a tam and had a wispy red moustache that joined a jaw-line beard. "Yup," I said,"That would have been Teddy. He must like you, that's a good sign...."
Like I said, I just calls 'em as I see 'em. Nothin' but the truth....well, I will admit I sometimes embellish the chicken stories. They speak with such a strong accent I can't always be sure what they say, so I interpret a bit.
Life is not odd, but it tries to be.

No comments: