02/10/17 Diary: Partying and Painting Previous | Next First Strip Original Series | First Strip Second Series | First Strip Current Series | Archive | Most Recent Previous | Next First Strip Original Series | First Strip Second Series | First Strip Current Series | Archive | Most Recent It’s Friday, time for another Diary Strip. Been a quiet week here in a quiet valley. Just puttering away. Have a great weekend! Luis Alberto Urrea (born 1955 in Tijuana, Mexico) is a Mexican American poet, novelist, and essayist. First Strip Original Series | First Strip Second Series | First Strip Current Series | Archive | Most Recent 02/03/17 Diary: The Wildlife 02/17/17 Diary: Weather Slingshot 8 Comments War Pig February 10, 2017 at 3:53 am 7 years ago You party animal! Unseasonably warm here, too, followed by single digits Thursday night with subzero wind chills. Blah. At least there is little snow so far. Dweev February 10, 2017 at 4:04 pm 7 years ago Just left Albuquerque last week –meetings, then returned home to Western Slope Colorado. Unseasonalbly warm here– usually, it is still winter, so expecting more of the white stuff before long. Your journaling is impressive Night-Gaunt49 February 10, 2017 at 4:31 pm 7 years ago Unseasonably warm in Texas too, that cold front sure hit hard all those states above us, maybe Colorado too. Peter Rogan February 10, 2017 at 7:38 pm 7 years ago Angels may not carry harps, but they sing stronger than anything on Earth. I have heard the song they will sing cutting back into the atmosphere; Fianna Fumana’s “Di madre in figlia” (Mother and Daughter). I will endure the storms / I will smile at the April rains / I will dry up in the early morning sun / Winter will put me to sleep. I will resist the century / I will keep the ancient pathways / I will not surrender to the noise / I will keep on singing mouse February 10, 2017 at 7:55 pm 7 years ago It is _such_ hard work being the kitten. All the things must be pounced on! I remember a night spent with my mom’s kitten – she pounced on every. single. inch. of the bed. All night long. But yay for reviving morning walks in the wind! Muzhik February 11, 2017 at 7:01 pm 7 years ago My (now ex-) wife and I used to love the antics of our first cat, who liked to pounce and attack toes and fingers poking up under the bed, waiting for us to GET UP AND FEED ME! That is, until the time I was waiting for my wife to get back from the bathroom, and the cat chose to pounce on my something that was poking up under the sheets, that was ALSO waiting for my wife to come back to bed. I still can’t say which was worse: the pain from little kitty teeth gnawing through the sheets, or the laughter from my mate when she came running back to see why I was shrieking. Stupid cat. Efogoto February 11, 2017 at 3:15 am 7 years ago Your last panel reminds me happily of George Booth. Night-Gaunt49 February 11, 2017 at 12:43 pm 7 years ago Such a restful place it is. It could be envisioned as a heaven. Leave a Reply Cancel reply Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.