Originally posted by Frostfrog
First - thanks all for the kind welcoming comments. In answer to your questions, I live in Southcentral Alaska, one hour by car north of Anchorage, but the entire state is my stomping grounds. Mugsy, Alaska was my dream home up until 21 years ago this month, when I pulled up stakes and made it my real home. Once I arrived here, I realized that Alaska had always been my home, it was just that I had been living away from home.

The question as to whether or not I am a writer is a good one, indeed. Time will provide the answer. I would like to be, but I find myself so busy with projects that demand I write that I do not have time to write. With the help of the cats who live here and of other cats all around the world, I hope this will one day change.

Sometimes, when the stress overwhelms me, I put on a certain album on the CD player, turn the volumn on loud, then several chords blast out, followed quickly by a high pitched, trembling riff and then a raspy voice consoles... "There must be some kind of way out of here..." for I too am a fan of the Hendrix, even as I am of Mozart, who I see has been reincarnated as Cat of the Day.

I enjoyed the description of your home, Puff. I was in Florida in April. Had I have known about you and George - if, indeed, you and George were together then - I would have looked you up and immortalized you, although I could not have added even one minute to your lives.

As noted, I will post sparingly, if not shortly. That is the best I can do.

The black cat is curled up on my shoulder, nudging my nose with his nose, forcing me to raise my elbow in order to enlarge his platform of support, forcing me to type with my right hand only. He is wonderful, this little character whose name is Jim - Jim Slim Many Toes.

"And the wind cries, 'Mary!'" I am not a poet, but Jimmie is.
Oh, Jimis version of "All along the Watchtower" is stellar. He was a brilliant electric guitar player, I have a Stratocaster, like the one in the signature picture. He died young at 27...