Found by the tracks this morning and yes it is nice to meat you.

Occasionally I get to house-sit in the most amazing place on Main Street. I call it heaven and every time I am there I am not sure if I will change the locks or not. I spent the May long week-end lounging in said heaven...fucking amazing. I am back in the back and those who know me, know what that means, the rest is guess work. I try to spend at least one hour a day sitting on my front step observing the lives that also circle these four small blocks. Sometimes an hour is filled with so much sorrow, but sometimes the joy is overwhelming. I am listening to Damien Jurado's "Bad Dreams"... and I could use a little saving from the fire right now. I am also hoping that no one is listening.

I am fighting my self imposed reclusive behaviour, a life contained in four blocks. I want to document my encounters with these streets, my place in them, my exclusion from them, my tenderness, and frustration. I would choose to be no where else. I am compulsive, I eavesdrop, I love language and I certainly love it's profanities. I must not forget to add I love my dog, her snoring is this last thing I remember every night before I fall asleep. She is fourteen and I fear her death more than my own, I am selfish I can't bear to suffer the loss. Once again it's nice to meat you.

meat meet

peek peak

male mail

horse hoarse

made maid