There are many things missing from my life right now, not the least of which is, perhaps, a life. I wrote "GET A LIFE" on the top of my to do list a few months ago. I am still working on it.
I do not seem to be able to assimilate well here in the desert otherwise known as Phoenix. Apparently everyone who possibly can flees for higher ground once the heat settles in. I think I will be glad to see the snowbirds return in their Bermuda shorts and dark socks, peering warily over their steering wheels. Right now, no one goes out, and I am curious as to what they do indoors all day.
To help with the loneliness, I acquired a good second hand cockatiel. His name is Tweety, which kind of messes everything up because all my other pets have names that are palindromes. He can say "Pretty Boy Tweety," over and over and over. The vet warned me not to play silly music for him when I'm gone because he might learn some tune that I won't love, like the theme to Barney or the opening to the Andy Griffith show. It had never occurred to me that he'd want to hear music in the first place, so I thought carefully before inserting a CD on my way to the grocery store. I chose Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. Now when I walk into the room, all he says is "Four dead in Ohio, four dead in Ohio, four dead in Ohio..."
Where is Barney when you need him? *