Above is the world-famous Air Combat Command Headquarters, situated about 200 feet from my office. I take it no one was at work that day.
Indiana was fun...mother begged me to call Judy to see if my house was okay but I didn't care. I ran the "Race for the Cure" with my mother (she strolled slowly...I ran) and got 19th place out of 600 or so runners. I told them I was a breast-cancer survivor. Mom and I drove to Indianapolis to see my lousy brother and his lousy wife. Indianapolis drivers are evil. I refuse to live there unless I can shoot them.
Then on September 23, I was on my mother's patio with Gizmo, Mommy, sister Brenda and her family when a local kitten came by. He was so cute and small, Gizmo was begging me to let him sniff. So I got on my hands and knees, as I always do with tiny animals, hangovers and crotch-kicks, and after five minutes lured him to the fence and gently picked him up. He was scared. I slowly lowered him to Gizmo, anxiously waiting, tail wagging overtime. When the kitten saw this gargantuan dog (Gizmo is a massive Yorkie)he panicked. I tightened my grip and he took a big bite out of my left hand with claws flying. It was like a butter knife going through butter and after the fur and claws stopped flying I had blood splattered on my nice T-shirt with a nasty deep wound in my hand that would haunt me for the next three months.
I got sick on my last day in Indiana. My mother passed on a cold. Thanks Mom.