The Mindset of a Small White Cat

My name is Cisco.

I'm barely out of my kitten year.

Ah, the kitten year. It was quite a time. There was...string. Or yarn. Or bottle caps.

I love me some caps. You know, the water bottle caps that your sports types use?

I heard there's an airport that has banned such bottles. I don't think I'd want to fly there.

Wait, what's flying anyway? I don't think I'd like that. There's probably no catnip* there.

Or Fancy Feast. By the way, why do we get served that junk? I'd like a real chicken or turkey, thank you very much.

*Catnip probably isn't available in Harnett County. They say that county is "dry," whatever that means. So catnip probably is illegal there or something.

Wait. I just want to sit on this scratching pad. Just because it's here.

I hear voices. There are weird people here.

I should investi...zzzzzzzzz

*****

Fort McHenry Tunnel, Baltimore

Stedman, NC -- OK, I asked Sean for a topic to write about tonight, and he gave me the title, so I had fun with it for a few moments.

In truth, Harnett County, which is just north of Cumberland County, is indeed dry.

So is the very town I'm sitting in, which is actually the size of, say, Tokeneke Road in Darien.

Or smaller.

We had another adventure in driving today, as the news reported a car fire on I-95 south near Baltimore. I was up at 4:30 and ready to go, but didn't leave the hotel before 5:30 and wasn't on the road until 6:00 a.m.

The impact of the car fire was that we took the EZ Pass "Express" lanes, which weren't exactly express. In my mind, the toll should be refunded, but I know it's not how it works.

And the very Washington, D.C. traffic I feared lived up to expectations. Just awful on the Beltway.

We mocked the man in the White House as we crossed the Woodrow Wilson Bridge. Not because of anything political, but we might to make fun of everyone.

Virginia was a mixed bag of traffic, with an issue between Richmond and Petersburg.

After that, things flowed nicely. But what could have been seven hours turned into eight (and close to ten when you factor in stops).

Again, I track these things.

There were moments when I was riding the brakes that I thought this wasn't that much fun anymore. Maybe I'm getting old and even a little jaded.

Then the roads opened. Plus, Richmond. I can't say enough how I love me some Richmond, VA, and it's not something I can easily explain.

It's a unique mix of people and politics and culture and natural beauty and local restaurants (and even chains) and industry and commerce. But every city has that.

But every city isn't Richmond. Every city doesn't have my friends in Richmond and the memories I've made there.

I miss Richmond. A lot.

But I do like it down here. Yes, I realize I drove past a big ol' Confederate flag, which sort of went out of style with The Dukes of Hazzard up around Noo York.

But there's also a charm here, like the young girl with the long, flowing hair at the Food Lion, who said, "Y'all have a good night." She was probably heading into her senior year at nearby Cape Fear High School, but she had a pleasant disposition.

But most of all, it's family. That can be tough because family can certainly (and does) vex us. But this family is comfortable, and that makes a huge difference.

That's Stache in the middle of the floor. I hasten to even try to think what's in that mind.

Except meowing as loud as possible.

Waffle House is up for breakfast tomorrow.

Plan accordingly.