One big red kitty found in the attic of the garage.

Kitty still hadn't come home the next morning. I had to leave so I didn't have time to look around the neighborhood. After I set the house alarm and walked outside toward the MF, I heard a distant mee-yaaaww. I thought it was coming from behind the garage, so I tromped over some weeds to investigate the area. No kitty there. Still, I kept hearing an occasional meeyaw. Then I saw the sequestered kitty in the window and figured it was him. But the sound seemed to be coming from the garage. I heard the meeyaw, looked toward the garage, then looked back at the kitty in the window. Kitty's mouth moved and I heard the meeyaw it generated. I started to walk away, but there it was again... Whipped around to see kitty in the window's mouth forming meeyaw. Turned to leave again: same thing. Finally, I just stood watching kitty in the window until I heard the meeyaw and kitty's mouth didn't open. Then I knew. Went back in the house to turn off the alarm, then opened up the garage where the wailings of a desperate cat were amplified by bare concrete. Couldn't find kitty anywhere. Sound seemed to be loudest near the van, but kitty wasn't in the van. Finally I looked up to see a small door with a long handle. Aha. I couldn't lower it all the way because the van was in the way, so I kittykittykitty-ed until the scared red boy eased his way down the incline and hopped onto the top of the van. He hid from me a little making him hard to catch, but these two cats are so docile in general that it didn't take long to grab him up and stick him in the laundry room with his brother, who was ostensibly traumatized by the whole ordeal judging by the fact he hadn't touched any of his food since the night before. Probably, he heard his brother out there wailing all night while I slept peacefully unaware.

Kitty made me miss my ferry to Seattle.

So I drove to G-ma's apartment first asking to use her computer to check the ferry schedule and then just deciding it would be faster to drive around. I borrowed her car because, after recent events, I don't quite trust the MF for long distances. However, only a few minutes in G-ma's car, wheel wobbling like crazy, I thought that really I know everything that's wrong with the MF and am clueless about what kind of imminent danger is lurking under G-ma's hood. Shit, don't even know where her jack is. I thought, I should just drive the MF because at least someone's been working on it regularly, checking all its fluids, adjustments. Actually, it does drive more smoothly and the stereo/speakers express music much more satisfactorily than g-ma's. What was I thinking? Wobbled to Seattle.

It was the first day of summer camp.

My camp counselor welcomed me with a warm smile and without any apprehension. This day was just an overview of summer camp rules and regs, some info gathering. I left there feeling good, feeling optimistic about the next several weeks and relieved to finally clean out the attic, so to speak.

Ate dinner with Mary at My Brother's Pizza (my favorite). This time I got the chocolate shake (best on the planet) of which I ate only one third. We chatted much and it felt really good. One of the better chats we've had in awhile.

Hour and a half back to Seabeck. Had to trade cars in Bremerton. Felt comfortable to hop into the MF. Decided I've developed some kind of relationship with it, that I like its personality and find its peculiarities endearing.

I worked out for two hours this afternnoon after having lunch with my friend Eric at a new Thai restaurant in Poulsbo. Seems strange that a small little nordic burg like Poulsbo would have such "exotic" cuisine, but I guess the fact that it does is some kind of testimony to the fact that Thai is the new Chinese food. The food and company were good, but I was a bad friend and left Eric waiting for me for a half an hour. He was a little pissed (justifiably so). I felt really guilty and angry at myself for never seeming to be able to correct that bad habit, so he took pity on me and let it slide. He said, "It'll be a short lunch." Yeah.

Tonight I got together with two old friends from high school. Lenna I haven't seen since high school, but I've bumped into Joelle occasionally over the years. We gossiped like mad, filling in gaps, constructing other people's 10-year histories from bits and pieces. We laughed too, recounting all the silly and stupid things we did. We met at an alehouse in downtown Port Orchard. Bay Street. Man, I never thought I'd willingly go to a bar (alehouse - whatever) in Port Orchard. But there I was, and it was like any other alehouse in any other small town in this state. Only, other small towns aren't my hometown and aren't tainted in my psyche by too many bad memories. In some ways, though I had much fun learning about old friends, some bad memories were called forth more poignantly than I would've liked. I drove over the hills and by the water to Seabeck with them vividly obstructing my view of the road; they seemed much more recent than the place in the past they're supposed to occupy. Maybe I am living new incarnations of them now and it's that which makes the old, and what I thought was dead, come alive again.