tacit

I finished taking the laundry out of this basket & put it down on its side for Purrcy investigation. It was worth snooping in, but not really good for long-term use, he found.

What's that in the sky? he wondered, after several days of rain & thunder-growler attacks.



My back continues to be better, while not being anything like *all* better. Prednisone has the reputation of being Side Effects City, my biggest ones so far are dry mouth making my voice all scratchy, and a certain amount of ADHD/mania type behavior, trouble settling & sleeping. Only 3 more days of tapering to go, though.

Amid all The Horrors ramping up & up, here's something that's given me active joy in the past couple of days: Sir Ian McKellan joining Scissor Sisters onstage at Glastonbury Festival:



My god, he's still got that full Royal Shakespeare voice.

It makes me cry a bit with joy at the end there, seeing Sir Ian being able to lead his people in a public celebration of being out & proud. And to see an old man being *venerated*, for once, admired for achievements but in this case also as a symbol of what people like those in the audience can have with age: a *full* life, a *long* life, a life with everything in it, despite what they may have been told. You don't have to be young to be queer, it's not a phase, it's part of a complete human life.

Purrcy was lying on top of the sofas and then Suddenly a Wild Hand Appeared! With Pets! it was pretty choice for everyone involved tbh



One of the things I've been doing to deal with stress is occasional binge-reading of book series. Most recently Rivers of London, which I'd never read all of before.

I do like them, and they're cute and all, but I'm forcefully reminded of why I don't read police procedurals any more, or watch TV shows with law enforcement heroes. Because this is really a fantasy of copaganda, as well as a fantasy with copaganda. I mean, the very idea that murders are treated so *seriously*, with huge commitments of personnel & resources ... This has *got* to be a fantasy for the UK, right? It's certainly a fantasy for the US, where almost half of all murders are unsolved.

So I can't really like them unreservedly, I can't *wallow* in them, my disbelief won't suspend that far.

But! Good news today!

I went to the doctor about my sciatica, and he started me on a course of prednisone, and ... it already seems to be working? maybe? Could this be what not being in pain is like?

Honestly it feels very strange. Stay tuned for more exciting updates!

The other day I heard Purrcy scrabbling in the corner between our bedroom & the laundry room, and then hissing. When I went over to see what was up his tail was all puffed up, as he confronted a new experience:
a milk snake!

( cut for snake pic )

Purrcy was very excited, but wary--he clearly has a "snake instinct" that says this isn't normal prey, but something possibly dangerous. We weren't able to catch the snake, but we're pretty sure it went out the way it came in, it was pretty scared of us (& Purrcy).

Purrcy spent the next half week sniffing & searching for it everywhere, & also being v suspicious of all the cords & any long or snakelike toys. It's like his "snake instinct" was dormant & had to be activated.



The bad part about Our Inside Snek Adventure is that I mentioned it to the housecleaner ... who turns out to be *horribly* snake-phobic. So much that just knowing there'd been a snake in the house, she was too scared to come this week. We're blocking up the Snake Holes, hoping that helps, & she'll try to come back next week.

I'm not going to tell her that this is the 3rd *species* of snake we've seen close to the house, which is made of stone, 100 yrs old, on a stony NJ hillside (others are garter & black racer). Mr Dr Science & I love it! He in the Atlanta suburbs, I in Champaign, IL, we were the kids who caught snakes & brought them in for show & tell in elementary school.

Gloria, our housecleaner, grew up in Jamaica, but she's a city girl through and through. She's prob. too old for snake therapy, I hope this works.