oatmeal contemplation

It is the damp edge of May.
The cats are in the garden, playing with caterpillars.
Their fur smells of mint and rosemary and dust.
They say it will be bad year for Gypsy moths.
You are supposed tape your trees with double-sided sticky tape.
You are supposed to spray them with a milky bacterial solution. I can't think of anything more unpleasant than spraying trees in bacterium.
Which means these trees here will probably be consumed by caterpillars. I might try the tape thing.

Last night there was an enormous earthquake somewhere around the planet. I caught a glimpse of it on television while Ava was watching cartoons. You could staple yourself to the television; there is always some kind of catastrophe happening somewhere.

I have decided not to watch anything about this earthquake today. I am sure lots of people are dead and trapped and injured and really, it is just so sad, and I can't help any of them right now. I will just feel bad for watching the cats play with the caterpillars instead of pulling children from wrecked buildings.

My friend leslie is visiting. She said she isn't going to watch the earthquake either. A catastrophe shouldn't be a television program, with ratings and all that.

Anyway. This is my first ever posting on this blog and it occurs to me that it is tilting toward morose. Really there is a lot to be happy about.
When I think of all of those things I'll write them down.