Today my half-brother Forest who is four and young enough to be my own child came running in the house to tell me about the mouse he'd found in the yard. "The Kitty kiwed it and ate a littew bit of it. I don't yike the kitty- she hotes things. I want to give away the kitty." My step mother who was putting on leather pants to go to a Bachelorette party said "You're right, honey, it's not very nice," drowning out my own explanation of the cycle of life. I sort of trailed off and started snooping around in the change and hardware on my dad's dresser while Forest made half-hearted kicking motions toward the the cat. He abruptly turned and walked out of the room. "Cycle-head" I heard him mutter under his breath as he passed me. Saturday, June 14, 2008
cycle head
Today my half-brother Forest who is four and young enough to be my own child came running in the house to tell me about the mouse he'd found in the yard. "The Kitty kiwed it and ate a littew bit of it. I don't yike the kitty- she hotes things. I want to give away the kitty." My step mother who was putting on leather pants to go to a Bachelorette party said "You're right, honey, it's not very nice," drowning out my own explanation of the cycle of life. I sort of trailed off and started snooping around in the change and hardware on my dad's dresser while Forest made half-hearted kicking motions toward the the cat. He abruptly turned and walked out of the room. "Cycle-head" I heard him mutter under his breath as he passed me. 
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My brother and I had a whiffle ball field in our backyard. There was dirt patch in the grass where we'd established a pitcher's mound. The left field wall was the the mudroom roof and the upper deck was the chimney and our bedrooms. Right field was the pine tree. Our calico cat, Burbank, frequently left us 'gifts' of dead mice on the pitcher's mound. We had a dog poop shovel to take care of that.
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