Billy is hard to live with, he knows that better than anyone.  His good and bad halves are disgusted with him tonight. But the cats love him as long as he breaks out the treats, no matter what. (The earring Billy and the two imaginary rabbits are wearing is the Golden Fishhook.  This was what Quintius Fabius Maximus, the Delayer, told everyone what fighting unnecessary battles was.  Nothing, he said, you can catch is worth the loss of that fishhook.  By avoiding a collision with Hannibal and harassing him at every opportunity he retrieved the situation when all seemed lost.  His motto was 'Hasten Slowly'. Billy doesn't know a damn thing about winning or even competing but he reads lots and lots of stories.  That's what you do in waiting rooms, and his bus is way behind schedule). Festina Lente

MajestiCat A Common Story Steve Davis on Instagram

Dragons are getting hard to find.

Haman Recognizes His Fate by Rembrandt, painted between 1648 and 1655, and a sorry-ass piece of work if there ever was one. Tonight we celebrate Purim, which runs until tomorrow night. Haman planned to kill all the Jews in Persia because Mordecai refused to bow to him, the king's new wife Esther asks Haman and the king to a banquet, she tells the king she is Jewish, Haman gets hung from a 50 cubit gallows that was meant for Mordecai, Mordecai gets the prime minister job formerly held by Haman, then the Jews in Persia preempt their enemies and kill 75,000 of them. Haman had cast lots, purim, to determine the date of the slaughter. Purim is celebrated by the reading of the book of Esther, the Megillah, all of it, therefore the Whole Megillah, with a festive meal, alms for the poor, and food gifts to friends. Costumes are worn. The name of God is not specifically mentioned in the book of Esther, but he's there all right! When Haman's name is read out loud...

Nothing like a day on the town.  Coffee, the antique shops, thrift stores, an evening by the bay.  Sometimes we deserve a good time.

A 'rut' is the Himalaya's compared to what I got going these days.  This rabbit is playing darts, and I misdrew his left hand so much that I gave up.

      Every so often, Abner would ask himself what the Pack would think of a wolf who took orders from a foppish deer with dubious medical credentials. But then Abner would remember that it was the same Pack that had sent him, well, packing. He couldn’t help it if he loved to dance, nor could he help it that wolves were so darned serious most of the time.       Abner had soon learned that dancing for small change on a street corner was no way to earn a livelihood. Yet Terpsichore does not forget her votaries; as if sent by the Muse herself, the Good Doctor Baywood appeared one day with an offer impossible to refuse. All Abner had to do was hobble about a bit until the doctor gave him a dose of his vile-tasting medicine. Then he could dance all he liked for the rest of the show. And not only that, he got a share of the proceeds and a warm bunk in the doctor’s wagon. Sure, the Pack might not approve, but for a Lone Wolf, he was...