I am typing this with one arm, as the other has been claimed by Milo as a pillow. AND HE IS PURRING!!!! He and his brother, Patrick, had a very tiring Thursday, which ended up working out well, because they didn't raise hell while I was trying to cook for the seder. We had to take them back to the vet, so Patrick could get his booster shot and we could find out why Milo was eating out of his litter box. The vet was *remarkably* unhelpful, suggesting that we start feeding Milo "less digestible" food, so he can eat as much as he wants and not gain weight. Which is essentially like saying to a person "You've gained too much weight eating all those fruits and vegetables. Eat only cheetos from now on, and you'll lose weight!" I am dubious. Particularly as he recommend switching the cats to the food his office sells.

This coming week promises to be exciting: I have a job interview, finally! If I get the job, I'll be spending the summer in one of those little kiosks at the entrance of a park, selling tickets that say you are allowed to keep your car there, while you do park things. There are definitely worse ways to spend the summer.

Also, this will be the week of endless Jew food, since I may have over done the passover shopping a smidge. This was our first passover seder together, and my first vegan seder ever, so I panicked and bought ALL THE MATZO MEAL. I'm still tinkering with the recipe, but will post it at the end of the week. Also, I found a recipe for vegan gefilte fish! The texture wasn't exactly like my grandmother's, but, thanks to a generous sprinkling of kelp granules and dulse flakes, it did taste like fish.

Also, for National Poetry Month:

Call of the Wild

The heavy old man in his bed at night
Hears the Coyote singing
in the back meadow.
All the years he ranched and mined and logged.
A Catholic,
A native Californian.
and the Coyotes howl in his
Eightieth year.
He will call the Government
Who uses iron leg-traps on Coyotes,
My sons will lose this
Music they have just started
To love.

The ex acid-heads from the cities
Converted to Guru or Swami,
Do penance with shiny
Dopey eyes, and quit eating meat.
In the forests of North America,
The land of Coyote and Eagle,
They dream of India, of
forever blissful sexless highs.
And sleep in oil-heated
Geodesic domes, that
Were stuck like warts
in the woods.
And the Coyote singing
is shut away
for they fear
the call
of the wild.
And they sold their virgin cedar trees,
the tallest trees in miles,
To a logger
Who told them
”Trees are full of bugs.”

The Government finally decided
To wage the war all-out.
is Un-American.
And they took to the air,
Their women beside them
in bouffant hairdos
putting nail polish on the
gunship cannon-buttons.
And they never came down,
for they found,
the ground
is pro-Communist.
And dirty.
And the insects side with the Viet Cong.
So they bomb and they bomb
Day after day, across the planet
blinding sparrows
breaking the ear-drums of owls
splintering trunks of cherries
twining and looping
deer intestines
in the shaken, dusty, rocks.
All these Americans up in special cities in the sky
Dumping poisons and explosives
Across Asia first,
And next North America,
A war against earth.
When it’s done there’ll be
no place
A Coyote could hide.

I would like to say
Coyote is forever
Inside you.
But it’s not true.
-Gary Snyder



June 2012

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