Gull Times

Archive for October, 2018

Mountains in the sky

Turn back

I can’t stand the wind

perfectly October

Piano keys


Fall to silence

Flash of Boston Light

Beach grass

Black waters

Puff piece

Clouds in my mud

Not a fan

When you have to remember how cute he was last night because today he chewed up the cord to the fan.

Hobbes was lost

For a brief period of time this morning, Hobbes was lost. Well, I thought Hobbes was lost. I had to open the outer and inner cellar door for a piece of plumbing equipment to be delivered. My thoughts were so distracted by the broken water heater and the cost of replacing it, I forgot I left the inside door to the house open.

Hobbes, my 11 year old house cat, enjoys frequent attempts to sneak into the cellar while I’m doing laundry. Hobbes has only been outside on his own once before. It was three months after I got him. He raced out the backdoor while I was coming in with the dog. It was January. It was nearly midnight. I saw him leap over the fence and figured he was lost forever. If his brother, Calvin, had not started pounding his head against the kitchen window then I would never have realized Hobbes was in the next driveway over, hiding under the neighbor’s car. I hurried out in bare feet and pajamas to crawl under the car and grab him. Hobbes has never tried to run outside again.

But today, when I realized what I had done leaving the doors wide open, I figured even he would not be able to resist this sunny October day. A frantic search of the house yielded not one sign of him. His brother, Calvin, led the way from room to room calling for him. There was no reply. I got the cat food bag and began to shake it while retracing my steps around the house.


Calvin continued to cry out loudly.


I did a yard sweep. Even walked over to the driveway Hobbes hid in 11 years ago. But, he wasn’t there. I returned home. Cat food bag in hand but no longer being shaken with hope. I looked at Calvin and said, “I lost him. It’s my fault. I lost Hobbes.” I went to the kitchen and put the cat food bag back where it belonged. When I shut the pantry door, a flash of black and white fur raced from the sun room to the stairs. I heard Hobbes’ heavy paws dash up to the second floor. Calvin was in hot pursuit after him.

Hobbes was not lost. He never left the sun room. I was lost. Lost in the craziness of broken plumbing. Lost in my own head to fear. I didn’t need to be looking for Hobbes because he was home. It was me who wandered off. Not able to find my way back because all I could see Was house. I did not realize I was already home with the brothers Cats and Dr. Masako.

Home and safe.

We are here

There’s no sunrise picture to post today. The morning is gray, cold, wet, and sunless. It would be a good morning to sleep late.

I’ve come to realize that I’ve slept too late for too long in 2018. The year has been a game of survival skills. Struggling from one unexpected bill to the next. Hoping there’s enough work each week to meet the financial drain.

My mother’s frequent complaint of robbing Peter to pay Paul has rung in my ears for the last few months. But, it seems, both Peter and Paul are as broke too.

It’s time for me to wake up. It’s literally time for me to crawl out of bed and take a cold shower. The plumber is coming to look at the hot water heater and hand me a piece of paper with bad news.

You know what I’m going to do about that? I’m going to schedule the repair.

Then I’m going to dig down deep and get back to work.

new paws


Summer’s done

dog tired

Step this Way

This Way

Endless sky

Wash it all away

Really smart people sat around and decided they could “re-nourish” the beach with imported sand. The Atlantic had something to say about that.


I don’t know if this is ok anymore. It’s been infront of this building for as long as I can remember so more than 50 years. When I was a kid I thought is was a cool connection to the first people who enjoyed this beach. As an adult, I know it’s much more complicated than that.
Is it history?
Is it cultural appropriation?
Is it a reminder of those who were here first?
Is it still cool?
I don’t know.
I know less each day.

Fading sunshine