Walking around the blocks after hanging with Bert's cat, I saw Patrick milling about in his front yard garden. Their driveway is in mid-remaking. I'd been noticing lots of local driveway action. It's like the Year of the Driveway.
I engaged a little with Patrick's particular mellow furtive version of affability. The crevice garden is particularly groovy. Maybe I'll snap some images of it for ya sometime.
Got home, thinking get the trash bins in, get the mail, then what, keep torturing myself with options I'm torn among for how all to take care of myself tonight? The mail had a package in it, from Laura. I trudged in with it and went ahead and opened it right off, not saving it for a finer moment. It was a 2010 cartoon-a-day calendar of selections from Cul de Sac, a strip I don't know, by Richard Thompson.
There was a brief letter, too, on a printout of a Sunday edition of the strip from back in '05, when, she tells me, it had more of a DC flavor.
It was really rather a delight to get this gift calendar in October of its year. I love that she sent it anyway, despite procrastination. It's better than if she'd sent it right off. Might be hard to explain why, but I'm not gonna find out, cuz I'm just gonna let you take my word for it. Maybe you can imagine anyway.
I scrapped the grocery store plan, at least for a bit, and let the kittens into the living room, where I type to you on my phone now, which is sorta why I didn't look for & link you to that comic I'm gonna catch up on, month by month, out of synch with the schtick of the medium.