Charges:

In the case of State of Sleeplessness VS. Hunter The Hunter, hereafter referred to as the Defendant, is charged with three counts of being deliberately nocturnal, and one count of non-consensual contact. The evidence indicates the Defendant intentionally slept ten hours a day to remain alert for long nights of loud and mischievous rabble rousing.

Exhibit A is one three inch rubber lizard found in the bed of the homeowner. The evidence in question was not present during lights out, but delivered between the hours of one and two am to the loud plaintiff cries of, “Meeeeeeeeeoooooow, Meeeeeeeeeoooooow, Meeeeeeeeeoooooow,Meeeeeeeeeoooooow…” other lizards have been known to follow as in prior charges, but were not retained as evidence in this case.

Exhibit B is one standard sized BB. The evidence was confiscated from the tile kitchen floor after a forty-five minute game of cat hockey, which succeeded in waking all occupants of the household abruptly when home invasion was feared to be the cause of “all that god-forsaken racket”.

Exhibit C is one popularly sanctioned cat toy that was deemed uninteresting for two months prior with the exception of the occasional bong hit on the catnip filled butterfly. Apparently said evidence became very interesting between the hours of two and three am, when residents of the home were awakened to the sounds of whacka, whacka, whacka… during an extended play session which lasted over half an hour until said toy was confiscated and placed in a holding cell (laundry closet).

The state will provide a disgruntled character witness to prove the Defendant engaged in non-consensual touching, or muffin making during predawn hours thus leading to a a hot and bothered plaintiff unable to return to REM, leading to series of unfortunate events resulting in productivity and grouchiness.

If you reside in a region for any length of time, the weather patterns become ingrained in your psyche. You anticipate changes in season, you feel the subtleties of temperature trends, and you plant or mate accordingly. It isn’t so much the forecast you rely upon as your five senses. You observe the flora and fauna behavior influenced by such changes and you adapt accordingly. Such instincts can serve a person well if the weather performs in a historical, predictable fashion.

If. Such a tiny word to express such a large sentiment.

Weather has been uncharacteristically below freezing since the New Year arrived. Those residing in Canada or near the Great Lakes feel justified in coughing, “pussy” under your breath in fratboy fashion. I know not what cold really is.. Still in a relative sense it’s been cold. So cold, thirty degrees F feels balmy.

This month has been filled with blankets, video games, and hot tea. For entertainment, I have spent many hours gazing at the bird feeder hanging outside the kitchen window. The birds it seems cope much better with cold than the rest of the housemates.

Some days are like that. One moment life is proceeding in a predictably mediocre and tedious manner, then the next moment your are flopping, and dehydrating outside the comfy wading pool of life.

I keep a small water garden on my deck. It isn’t anything more than a forty gallon bucket, a pink grapefruit water lily, and two one comet goldfish. They fish lived there, virtually unaffected by hardship by the elements for almost a year. When we acquired them, one was more dominant than the other. Chasing, smacking, cajoling. Regular old fish hazing. The fish in the larger pond never showed any signs of domination issues.

Because there was noticeable aggression and competition issues, the “deck” fish earned names. I named them after my spouse’s parents (for the sake of anonymity, I will call them White Comet, and Red Comet. I rarely name fish. Everything else that requires feeding, and a few things that don’t, have names, but fish, not so much. It isn’t as if they come when called, or give a rats ass about affection. Their needs are food, water, habitat. Check, check and check.

Since the end of winter, the deck fish have been rather mellow. No aggression, no chasing, no harassment. Life is good, or so it would seem. I thought White Comet might have mellowed in part to the long cold winter due to six inches of ice on the water garden. She wasn’t nearly as obnoxious after the spring thaw. Red Comet, well he was as mellow as always, at least until yesterday.

Apparently, he just couldn’t cope with the absence of confrontation in his life, and jumped out of the bucket, to an extended a painful demise as he dried into a wide eyed crispy critter. White Comet, made kissing gestures and continued swimming in a circle.

I transfered two fish from the large pond to keep White Comet company, but I won’t burden them with names. Notoriety has unfortunate consequences.