Cat Fight

I recently discovered that a poop based dreadlock had formed on my long hair cat Una's rear end fluff. I found my shears, grabbed the cat and manipulated her into a position where I could cut out the matting. Una took offense and before long we were in an all out brawl. Tuffs of cat hair flew as I tried to hold onto her wriggling body enduring slap after slap from her indignant paws. All the hissing, biting, shouting and tail grabbing caused such a ruccus that when we finally broke apart (I had the fecal dread in hand) the other two pets were sitting side by side staring. The dog looked alarmed and the other cat was just plain smug.

I thought I had won the fight until I started to get ready for bed. Walking into the bathroom I became overwhelmed by the smell of cat urine. Una had exacted her revenge all over my laundry. She may have just won this round, but I'll win the war. I have the power to bathe her after all!

Coal

Growing up I lived on the other side of raised railroad tracks from a beach. The tracks dated back to the late 19th century and due to that there have been lumps of coal surfacing as the sands shift up and down the shore.

Today while I was walking along the beach I found a chunk of coal and laughed as I brushed the surface smooth. Standing in the breeze I thought back to when I was a child and found it strange (not for the first time) that from a young age I was entirely conscious of impending doom. Memories unfolded of finding and stuffing my pockets with lumps of coal. I'd take them home and put them in a bucket I kept in our playhouse just in case society fell and I needed a way to keep warm.

I found a second lump not that much further up the strand. Smiling I dropped the lump I held near the other one. Even if I still had that bucket of coal it wouldn't have been enough for more than one fire and lets be honest, when you live in a forest, who burns coal?