Tech Fail and the Man

My computer -- sie ist tot. OK, not completely Dead City but she ain't happy. I woke yesterday to a keyboard who only spoke in mathematical symbols. Was this a hint? Was she patiently, (with visuals!) explaining that there are significantly higher paying gigs to be had in the numbers racket?  That and, on rebooting the poor beast -- my sad, desperate attempt at a quick fix, I got an image of the hard drive on a grey field. Yes, I could restart but at greatly reduced capabilities.

Things looked bad so I called in a miracle worker. Hopefully he was able to sort it all out last night and I'll be back in biz this morning. I was in the midst of three layout/design jobs for work and they're DUE! Can you feel it? I'm cringing and whinging under the pressue of tech fail.

In other not-really-news, Feral Boy is out of the rafters but can't be moved from on top of a heating duct high in the heavens of the basement ceiling. He's never, ever been this warm, dry and safe in December before. 
He comes down for meals and litter box breaks. That's it.

I'm starting to accept that, despite earlier promise, Rocco's never going to be a sweet, comfy indoor cat. He's not gonna be sitting on my lap while I read the paper or waking me at 3 AM with a nudge to the cheek -- I'm hungry WAKE UP, like certain other residents (Coco that is, not The Amazing Bob, just FYI and all). At least he's out of the biting winter winds. Our former wild boy is dry and unbothered by our other porch visitors -- the roving bands of frat boy-ish raccoons, the dive bombing squadron of Blue Jays, Estelle the elfin faced possum, Flower our friendly yet shy skunk, Gaston (AKA Loud Boy) and Ghost Cat.

Still, there's good news -- on one of Rocco's rare forays into the kitchen for pats, I saw that his back is completely healed now. No more seeping, raw skin. The fur's still patchy BUT he seems to be, otherwise, all better.

Who knows, maybe he'll emerge from his heating duct aerie sometime soon.

As Miss Emily says:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - 

That perches in the soul - 

And sings the tune without the words - 

And never stops - at all -