The crickets began chirping before sunset today. They think it's summer, too. They sound as though they're happy about it. I'm not, though an early arrival of summer fruits in the market might do something to reduce my displeasure.
My cat tried to kill me again. She lurked in a dark place where she knows I walk, and almost succeeded in tripping me. I don't know why she wants to kill me. I'm the one who feeds her and changes her water and brushes her, and I interrupt what I'm doing ten or fifteen times a night to let her in or out. I suspect that she might want to eat me. As soon as I'm dead, she'll probably rip into my flesh with her sharp little incisors and begin devouring my still-warm corpse. She'll regret it when her water runs out, though. Stupid cat.
A small spider has parked itself under my windowsill (inside the house) and has been in the same position since last night. I'd check to see if it's dead, but if it isn't I'd rather not disturb it. I like having it there. So far, it hasn't tried to kill me, and I'm thinking of adopting it and calling it Kitty.
A WTF?! to Rival's NASCAR (F the R) Edition crock pots. Presumably, both outfits thought this was a good idea. From a financial standpoint, maybe they're right. Maybe these things will become kitsch collector's items. But I wonder what it will do to the value of a pot featuring a particular driver when he crashes and burns? Weird.
Summer icon time.