Brake Jobs, Black Cats, and Another Day at Pendragon Hold

Have you ever had one of those blogging sessions that you knew no matter how long it ended up, you'd probably only scratch the surface of all that you had that day to blog about? This is one of those days..........

It was a warm, humid Southern style morning that promised to become a much hotter, wetter day. It was about 7:30 and THE Wife was taking the opportunity to not to do anything, including getting out of bed. Me, it was a miracle that my dry eye was even letting me sleep as late as it did, so I got on up and decided to work my way into my old coveralls in preparation for the brake job I had to get done before the Gods of Deceleration gave up on me altogether. They can only protect us from procrastination for so long........

A cup of coffee and a gathering of the necessary tools later, I detoured to the goat pen in order to tie the complaining creatures out in the yard in order to shut them up. Goats, hungry or not, think they are starving, and must be attended to post-hast if one is to get any sonic peace. Country music almost sounds sweet in comparison to bleating goats, and I hate country music. THEN, I was able to make my way back to the car to get the job going.

As is always the case, and I have done this job numerous times on this same car already, it took me a few minutes to remember exactly how to get the brake assembly off the wheel disk and the old brake pads off. After staring and swearing and piddling and peering, I finally found the two hex bolts on the other side of the assembly that takes that special hex wrench that I ALWAYS have to go hunt down in the OTHER socket set that I can NEVER remember where I stored. Once those things were accomplished and the right side was done, I breezed right through the Left side in a quarter of the time it took me to do the first. I have no doubt that in thirty-odd thousand miles I will repeat this same, time-honored practice in exactly the same fashion, forgetting exactly the same steps I forgot this time. I think it's a guy thing.........

Once this dirty, filthy job was accomplished, I crawled back out of the coveralls (why is it so damn hard to get in and out of these things these days?) and took a shower. I HAD told THE Wife that I would take her to St. Augustine today, but taking into account the heat, other things to be done, and the expense (of which gas is a BIG contributor), we agreed we would stick closer to home and go to a discount crafts super-store in the area to look for stuff she needed for spell craft and other nefarious practices. While she was in that store, I drifted over the the super-store next door catering to pet needs to find something for my dog's itchy skin. While there, having scored some super duper flea, tick, and everything else killer which I had thought I needed a Vet prescription for, I was inexorably drawn to the side of the store that was hosting a cat adoption event. No, I was not in any mood to adopt another entitled alien parasite to house and feed. But there she was, a BLACK cat with an interesting history. Her name was, get this, Sadie Mae, and her previous owner was an elderly lady living in Waycross, Georgia, who had suffered a stroke, was forced into an "assisted living facility", and could not take her beloved Sadie with her. Fortunately, this lady had dear friends who saved the animal from a short stay at the local animal "shelter" where she would have been put to sleep (murdered) within days, who asked their friends associated with Pet Angels down here in the Jacksonville area if they could find this cat a new home. It seems that even some animals have guardian spirits if they are lucky, either that, or the love this dear old lady had for her beloved Sadie transcended all the bad things fate could offer and intervened in what could be another anonymous tragedy.

So, I walked back over to the crafts store and mentioned casually to my partner of the Witch persuasion that there was a black cat next door that she might want to go over and meet.
$55 of our hard-earned money and a lot of paper work later, we adopted Sadie and she is now here in her new home, Pendragon Hold, where cats, dogs, lizards, goats, and a widowed flying squirrel find safe haven. Funny thing, but Cricket and Shiloh, two animals who have always found indifference in each other's company, have suddenly bonded in the face of this new intrusion into their well-ordered world. Pretty damn pathetic, if you ask me. Get OVER it, you two!


Now, it's heading towards evening, I'm sitting at my trusty iMac, listening to Pagan Poet radio, and pecking out this post; the wife is working her magic in her new purple room, which the resident twin jokingly refers to as "Barney's Playhouse", and I'm hoping this night lasts a very, very long time. I like the vibes I've been soaking up this very pleasant day.

This is Alex Pendragon, AKA THE Michael, this is our story, and I'm sticking to it. Till next time, may your weekends be as pleasant as mine can sometimes be.