Author: Johnnyboy

Johnnyboy is a queer recovering alcoholic. For the moment he is also the primary caregiver for his mother, who suffers from age-related cognitive impairment. She is happy as a lark and is surrounded by a crew of sober women which gives him the freedom he needs to get out of town. When he is not at home in Somewheresville, he is searching out the proper path to travel for happiness and joy. He is a photographer who believes in the digital age, but feels that film is still where its at. He has a darkroom and works in it. He is single and is in remarkably great physical condition for all the damage he has submitted his body to. His cardiologist is very happy. Johnnyboy is over the age of 35.

Another missed day…

Johnnyboy

I apologize for seeming to be a lazy blogger, but I missed yesterdays entry…Oh well…

I brought Sweetie Pie to the vet yesterday to be spayed, and to have her nails trimmed. This was all done at a very well respected vet nearby. All went well but the whole day I was worried that something horrible would happen, like they would de-claw her or something. We had a kitten years ago who dies during her ‘operation’, but that is a rare case. I worried needlessly. I picked her up this morning and brought her home. She licked her scar for a while, but has since stopped doing that. She was pretty cranky when I got her home, but she has settled right back in to her pre-estrus routine of sleeping, eating, and being such a sweetie pie that she has earned her name. She will remain indoors for about a week and I’ll keep a watch on the incision for redness or infection.

My mom has gone to Maine for the week, so it is just the 2 of us here.

I had so many relevant things to write about, but suddenly there is nothing…

Oh well, so it goes.

Johnnyboy

Tuesday with yet some more haiku…

Johnnyboy

I need to find out how to make pictures of my jailhouse art as well. Maybe by next week I can put up the visual stuff as well as my writings. Well, anyway, here are the haiku for today…

#1.
The narrow window
that lets in just enough light
to read your letter.

#8.
A shined steel mirror
throws a wavy reflection
on my waking face.

#9.
Walking to and from
one cold room to another
watched by cameras.

These were early works, obviously, before I started to write more about nature and what I knew to be outside of the walls of the jail in which I was housed.

Johnnyboy