Lorenzo (Lonzo) the Leopard lounges atop the TV and within easy paw-reach of a sword. I knew from the moment I saw him that he is a born adventurer.
Lorenzo the Leopard (aka Lonzo the Leopard) arrived at my home this week. He’s looking forward to our trip. For the present, he chooses to hang out where the Alpha Cat, Monsieur le Comte de Sevigny, can’t get to him. When they were introduced, Lymond gave him a look that boded no good for the interloper.
This morning, I am at a breakfast get-together at a lovely resort hotel in San Diego. It’s sponsored by Grand Circle Travel, which has the privilege of Pat, Moi, and Lonzo on its Spain/Portugal trip in March. Lonzo came along in my purse, already eager to get underway. As am I! I’ll post pictures and a report… if I remember to take the camera and can stay awake long enough to take notes of what happened. Don’t hold your breath.
Meantime, life wags on here. My buddy Alicia Rasley and I are preparing two “connected” Regency novellas for publishing on-line, and I am learning the hard way about choosing and producing fine-lookin’ covers to go with them. A good thing I got my hair cut on Wednesday. If I still had enough hair to get hold of, I’d be tearing it out.
Seagulls are glorious, viewed from a distance.
Moving on to a whole different subject. Every Tuesday and Friday, a huge garbage truck pulls up near my apartment to empty the dumpster and, as a side effect, sends Lymond underground. For some reason, he is convinced the truck is coming for him. Never mind that in nearly eleven years, it’s never come near him or shown the slightest inclination to do so. Birds, on the other hand, mostly crows, drop by regularly to see if there’s anything to forage for supper. I like crows. They’re beautiful, they’re smart, and I’ve never had one swoop down and snatch something from my hand.
Seagulls are beautiful too. Dunno if they’re smart. But they will ransack a picnic basket or lunchbag if it’s left unattended, and when I take leftover bread to the beach for handouts, they flap around me like invading hordes of huns. No mercy from a gull. Certainly no respect or gratitude for a handout.
Is this a snack I see before me? Come let me clutch thee, before the truck gets here. Macbeth the Seagull
Gull residents of a beachside town know no fear of people. Residents and tourists alike treat them well, so they are relatively fearless. Yesterday, this sleek adventurer showed up at our dumpster to see what he could scavenge. He must have found something in the plastic bag he pecked at, because he stayed a long while, snacking. I expect he’ll be back.
Bad cold here, with much sneezing. Will report at some point Lonzo’s opinion of his new travel company. I figure that if he endured the mailing in a cramped box to my apartment, he’ll do well wherever I take him. And if Pat can put up with me on a trip, so can he!
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