I've been touring some astrology websites. Here are some fascinating facts about me, a Sagittarius:

Sometimes Sagittarians can get caught up in form, rather than substance.

True. I enjoy the form of a man in Levi's 501s. I couldn't care less if there's a brain there or not. I've always been as intrigued by the packaging as the product.

Sagittarians are gifted with foresight and good judgment.

Very false. See above. If foresight and good judgment were involved, I'd go for the guy in the 3-piece suit. The one with a brain.

Sagittarians are endowed with the gift of gab.

True, but most people would refer to it as a line of bullshit.

Sagittarians are generous by nature, but quite resourceful in caring for their resources.

Hardly. My checkbook balance proves how wrong that is.

They are generally conventional and in control of their sexual natures.

Conventional? I don't know. Is 'vanilla' considered conventional? In control of their sexual natures? That's a laugh.

Because of their independent nature, maintaining a close personal relationship is difficult.

True. I have no idea how Fred puts up with me. Or anyone else, for that matter.

The Sagittarius love of sports often leads to an indulgence in dangerous pursuits.

False. I always play safe.

They are idealists, and this seems to keep them going even when life disappointments crop up and smash their plans. «To keep on, keepin' on» is a Sagittarian way of life.

That's a polite way of saying, «they're slow learners.»

I found it interesting that nothing was mentioned regarding the Sagittarian's love of art, although the majority of the famous Sagittarians listed were arts-oriented people.

I think astrology is interesting, but I'm not convinced it's anything more than a fun pastime.

Nancy Reagan may disagree.

Night Breezes Seem to Whisper I Love You...
The fall winds at Hell's Half Acre have been blowing the lawn furniture all over the back yard. The trees are losing leaves fast now. I guess winter will be closing in before long. I used to say that I liked all four seasons of the year, but the older I get the less I like winter. I'm too damned old to be shoveling snow. Which reminds me, I need to check the average snowfall for Eureka Springs. It's high on my list of places to retire. But since I probably won't be able to retire until the age of 84, it's not something I need to check on right now.

Birds Singing in the Sycamore Tree ...
And possums playing on the patio. Last night, the kitty and I are looking out the patio door. There, beside the barbecue grill, leering at us, was a possum. I hate possums. I know they're God's creatures, but, like pigeons, I see no reason at all for them to exist. The puss isn't real fond of them either. Not when they trespass his catdom.

«Lemme out! I'll show that smelly scavenger whose property this is!»

«You don't have any claws. I'm not letting you out.»

«Well, I can bluff real good. Watch this!» (The back goes up, hiss, spit, hiss.)

I open the door slightly and yell at the intruder. He runs away into the darkness. About then the kitty gets real butch and races to the edge of the patio. But only to the edge. He's aware of his claw deficiency.

«Take THAT! And stay outta MY yard, you cowardly piece of crap!»

He then zooms back to the safety of the house. «Guess I showed him!»

Dream a Little Dream of Me...
Exactly what I'm going to be doing after this weekend. Not a dream of me, but of…oh, I don't know….maybe Christopher Meloni, Matt Lauer, or something similar. I've worked 6 weeks straight without a day off. After this weekend, it will slow down a little.

I see a vodka tonic in my future. WOOHOO!! And after a drinkie poo (or 6 or 7), like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down.

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