The Black Seal’s new, redesigned website is up. I ran into a few problems accessing it yesterday but those problems seem to be mostly fixed this morning. If you’re someone who has wandered over here from there – Welcome! Despite good intentions I’m a sporadic poster. If I were just putting sketches up I’d probably manage it more frequently. I get five pages of sketching done for every half page of prose. And most of that prose I wouldn’t put up.

There will be no poetry on this page. For that, go to Lovesettlement. He’s got a way with words I can’t hope to compete with.

For political opinions try some of Sarah Byam’s essays at Tuppenceworth or check out the carefully crafted rants at Longstoryshortpier or the toons Amptoons or In Contempt (and then read the blogs that are attached to those) or, well, go anywhere but here. My political opinions all seem to be driven by a screaming psychotic yahoo back in my lizard brain who advocates a scorched earth policy for just about any situation he disagrees with. He’s fun at parties and around the house but I wouldn’t let him put his views in print.

For comics, start with the links to left. I keep intending to add more. Ultimately, saving links to good webcomics is a driving force for creating this blog. Lots of good, eccentric, completely uncommercial comics being done on the web these days. It warms my evil little heart.

And if you’re someone who reads Skook regularly – go check out The Black Seal and order yourself a copy or two. I’ve got quite a few illustrations in the latest issue, stuff I’m pretty proud of. If you’re a gamer it’s a fine source for horror and conspiracy ideas and scenarios.

You would think that seven hundred pounds of furry primate would be easy to spot in someone’s back yard. You’d think that if you were the sort of person who tamed his backyard. I’m not that sort of person. Were it not for the lease agreement I’d probably never cut the lawn or trim the bushes or cut weeds. All the ground surrounding this place would vanish under the lush vegetation that the Pacific Northwest rainfall encourages. My front porch would be accessible only to those equipped with a machete. My back door would be barely visible beyond the long grass. Mothers would attach leases to their children before they let them outdoors to play in the greenery. One could hide lions, tigers and bears in that jungle. A sasquatch would feel right at home.

At least I would guess a sasquatch would feel at home. This morning Skook seems to have no problem with the yard just as it is.

The back yard isn’t fenced in. It’s bounded by a chain link fence in the north (Cranky Old Lady Neighbor’s kingdom over there), the back alley in the east (Seattle is honeycombed with alleys), garage in the south and the house at the west. The grass is low despite winter rain and warm temperate. And curled up next to one of the bushes on the north side is Skook.

I wouldn’t have thought to look for him. He doesn’t always come home. When I got up at nine-a.m.ish I noticed that he wasn’t on his futon. It didn’t appear to have been rolled out. I made myself some coffee (i.e. poured yesterday’s cold leftovers in a glass, tossed in some sugar and stirred) and puttered around the house. Mainly I tried to clear up my breathing passages. I’ve been fighting a cold for the last few days. I’m at the tail end of it but my body is still zealously producing snot. Takes about a half an hour to get it coughed and sneezed and blown out enough for me to feel healthy. Noticing that the kitchen garbage was full and feeling like I ought to contribute something to the upkeep of the house and since the sun was out anyway I stuck my boots on and took the bag outside.

It was on my way back from the trash barrel that it occurred to me that the back yard had acquired an extra compost pile, or something, by that bush. No. Sasquatch. He’s curled up so that head, hands and feet can’t be seen unless you’re standing right over him. The grass is still tall enough that, from the alley or next door, you really wouldn’t be able to tell how damned big he is. If you even noticed him at all you’d think he was some big brown shaggy dog sleeping in the sun. And since most folks don’t want to get the attention of a big dog, especially if there were no fence between them and it (as would be the case with for alley walkers), they’d refrain from disturbing the critter.

If it starts to rain he’ll probably come inside. I’m hoping the sun will stay dominant until it’s time for it to set. This afternoon I’m helping Jaydogg and DoubleM move some furniture out of M’s ex’s apartment. I’ve done enough moving in the rain to be happy to never do it again.

Of course, if this sunny weather keeps up, tomorrow I’m going to feel compelled to test out our new lawn mower on the winter growth. Fortunately the ground by that bush is grooved and lumpy as the result of a year’s old attempt at gardening. Lawn mowers don’t work too well there. That part of the jungle should endure.

Somehow, in the two weeks that I haven’t been writing in it, this blog went from non-existent in a “David Lee Ingersoll” google search to number six. I’m going to have to celebrate by drinking even more cold medicine when I get home. Which I’ll no doubt need because it’s frickin’ pouring out. Oh yay.

In the game of cat versus sasquatch, the cat has won. I woke up yesterday (Sunday) morning to the sound of Paliki meowing at our bedroom window. It took me a bit to figure out that the noise was coming from outside. Paliki often wakes me up at 5:30 a.m. or thereabouts with a barrage of meows. I’ve discovered that if I’m able to ignore her for five minutes she’ll give up and go away. Yesterday morning however the meows kept going and I finally realized that the sounds had that muffled quality that comes from sound passing through badly insulated walls.

So I stumbled through the house and let her fuzziness in. I checked her paw. No visible swelling, stitches still intact. It was pretty cold out so I can understand why she was so insistent about getting inside. I did a quick check around the basement for Skook but he was still out.

That means he must have let Paliki out sometime after midnight. Skook didn’t go out until after Nizzibet and I had gone to bed. Or maybe Jaydogg opened the door for her.

I don’t really care much. Paliki is in pretty good shape. She’s back to jumping on the furniture and galumping around the house – a herd of elephants cleverly disguised as an eight pound cat. I played doorman at least a half dozen times for her yesterday and once already this morning.

Skook and Paliki have never been the best of friends. It’s not that he doesn’t like cats. He and Chainsaw adored each other. When we’ve walked the neighborhood there are cats that come when he whistles – cats that never let me get within a hundred feet of them. But Skook and Paliki … something about their personalities just doesn’t groove. They either ignore or avoid each other depending on how the relative space around them can best be navigated.

This week, unfortunately, Paliki is really getting on Skook’s nerves. Normally she’s an indoor/outdoor cat, coming and going at her own whim. On Sunday I noticed that she was favoring one of her front paws. A quick examination determined that said paw was messed up. It was swollen and the outside toe was sticking off at an angle. Monday, Presidents’ Day, I took her to the vet and discovered that she’d somehow gotten an infected cut and dislocated a toe. The vet instructed me to give her antibiotics twice a day, painkillers as seemed necessary and keep her inside. Paliki came how sporting a nifty blue bandage around her right front paw. She got the bandage off within a couple of hours of being home. She pulled off the two bandages Nizzibet and I replaced it with. She hates the antibiotics and the painkiller makes her foam at the mouth if the pill doesn’t go down the first time. And she really doesn’t care for this being kept in stuff.

Skook says that normally Paliki sleeps while Nizzibet and I are off at work. She’s not doing that this week. This week she’s down in the basement bugging Skook to let her out three or four times a day. Being nocturnal by nature, he’s not appreciating all this attention. He’s been out of the house right at sundown for the last two days. He was gone before I got home tonight. He got some peace today since I’d dropped the cat off at the vet for a check up on my way to work. She spent the whole day there, no doubt complaining about it the whole time, and I picked her up at about six. I’d planned to be there by at least 5:30 but one of our clients called at 4:53 with an emergency that needed to be negotiated. That kept me in the office until 5:30. It poured on the way to the vet. We don’t have a car so I took the cat most of the way there and back on the bus but there’s enough of a walk (and a wait) between the bus stop and the vet’s office that I got soaked. Paliki stayed dry in her carrier and mostly kept her discontent to herself.

(Funny the things you notice. Another client at the vet’s was given his pet back and told that he had a really great cat. My darling Paliki doesn’t get that sort of compliment. It hurts my feelings a bit. I can’t really argue. Her charm is discreet.)

Poor Skook. Paliki’s got to be in for another four or five days. The garage is even less of an option since DoubleM gave us a lawn mower and yard tools.

Jaydogg has been working diligently on the Labor of Love Creative Studio website. If you haven’t visited it recently, don’t. Wait another week and see it all. Unless you’re like me then you’ll go check it out now and forget about it for another couple of weeks.

In honor of Blake getting her ownself up and blogging I hereby post for the first time in ten days. I will make no excuses for lack of posts. Now if all my other 50 or so dear close friends to set up webjournals I’ll be able to evesdrop on all their lives from the comfort of my basement lair.

Woke up at 3:30. That’s the a.m. version. No odd noises disturbed my sleep. It wasn’t because I’d been dreaming of the ocean and now had to pee really bad. It wasn’t the cat needing to be fed. It wasn’t Skook knocking on the window because he’d lost his keys again. It wasn’t Nizzibet doing the Disco Inferno in her sleep.

Just one of those mornings where I was wide awake at an hour that I rarely experience while conscious. So I fed the cat, used the bathroom and went back to bed. Snuggled up to the Nizz for another 40 minutes before I finally got it through my head that I wasn’t going back to sleep. Just didn’t feel like it.

Found out last week that an old friend had killed himself. Found out yesterday that another old friend has probably only got another week to live. Nizzibet and I have been looking into getting life insurance. Had nurses over two weekends in a row to get blood and urine samples. But it’s not thoughts of mortality waking me at 3:30.

Whatever it was, I’m up. Might as well draw.

So I noodle a bit here and there. Change the wording on a heading or two. Add a link. It’s like setting up an office. I rarely get everything in place the first time.

No bios yet. Deadline is tomorrow. I’ll check my email Sunday morning and if there are no bios I’ll be forced to describe myself in a paragraph. Hopefully the humble me will be in charge that morning.

I need a biography. The Black Seal is redoing its website to reflect the upcoming second issue and has asked for contributor bios. I’ve already sent a photo but the bio itself eludes me. These last couple of weeks I just don’t care what I’ve done in my life. I’m not feeling smart ass enough to toss off a spoof piece.

Which is where you come in. Whoever you are. I need a paragraph about me to pass on to The Black Seal. I don’t care how accurate it is (though some relation to facts would be nice) so if you’re someone who has wandered onto this blog from a far corner in cyberspace and doesn’t know me from adam, feel free to write something up.

Everyone who sends a bio will receive either one of my 2003 calendars or a copy of Last Dangerous Christmas (an anthology from 1997 that features “Where Elves Come From”, a story I illustrated).

The deadline for bios is Saturday the 8th. Be sure to specify whether you want a calendar or Christmas and include a snail mail address. Send to chaosunit@aol.com and put “biography” in the subject line.