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John McAfee, founder of the eponymous anti-virus company, is wanted for questioning in a murder case. Officially he is a "person of interest" and there is no arrest warrant; unofficially, he has told Wired that he is hiding out because he fears the police will try to kill him. But he doesn't want to leave Belize.
My birthday was last weekend, and I had a low-key but pleasant celebration. About a month ago, when the middle of October looked more like early than late autumn, I decided that I wanted to walk in the woods and look at fall colors on my birthday, if possible, just because I could. Then we got Sandy, and a lot blew away, but it still seemed worth doing.
After lunch,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cattitude and I spent about an hour in the woods of Inwood Hill Park, sticking to relatively low areas: one path I had thought of taking was blocked almost immediately by a fallen tree trunk. It was a warm afternoon, and some fall colors, mostly yellow, and some green. (I looked online later, and that part of the park was still officially closed; I think we were adequately careful of storm-damaged trees.)
For dinner, Cattitude made me chicken in a tarragon cream sauce, a tasty thing we haven't had in a while; it helped that the supermarket had fresh tarragon. He'd gotten my birthday cake—a small cheesecake—the day before. Definitely a dairy-rich meal.
I got very nice birthday cards from Cattitude andrysmiel, both with insects and flowers and shiny glitter (one butterflies, one dragonflies), which are sitting on my desk until the cat gets around to knocking them over. My aunt Lea's card, which arrived the day before, said "Celebrate!" which I did.
Good things: cards and emails and phone calls from friends and relatives. Harmless thing: an email from my bank, saying they couldn't get a chocolate cake through the mail slot, so here's a video (which I didn't bother watching). Annoying thing: a "happy birthday" phone call from my insurance company in late afternoon. I told the caller that I hoped she hadn't wakened Cattitude; this appears to not have fit her script, as she didn't register it enough to apologize. (She admitted they had no actual business reason for the call, and I hung up.) She also dislodged my lap cat, but I mind that much less. Amusing thing: a Facebook message from a cousin, saying "Is this your birthday? If so, happy birthday." He apparently decided, correctly, to trust his memory over what Facebook thought.
After lunch,
cattitude and I spent about an hour in the woods of Inwood Hill Park, sticking to relatively low areas: one path I had thought of taking was blocked almost immediately by a fallen tree trunk. It was a warm afternoon, and some fall colors, mostly yellow, and some green. (I looked online later, and that part of the park was still officially closed; I think we were adequately careful of storm-damaged trees.)For dinner, Cattitude made me chicken in a tarragon cream sauce, a tasty thing we haven't had in a while; it helped that the supermarket had fresh tarragon. He'd gotten my birthday cake—a small cheesecake—the day before. Definitely a dairy-rich meal.
I got very nice birthday cards from Cattitude and
rysmiel, both with insects and flowers and shiny glitter (one butterflies, one dragonflies), which are sitting on my desk until the cat gets around to knocking them over. My aunt Lea's card, which arrived the day before, said "Celebrate!" which I did. Good things: cards and emails and phone calls from friends and relatives. Harmless thing: an email from my bank, saying they couldn't get a chocolate cake through the mail slot, so here's a video (which I didn't bother watching). Annoying thing: a "happy birthday" phone call from my insurance company in late afternoon. I told the caller that I hoped she hadn't wakened Cattitude; this appears to not have fit her script, as she didn't register it enough to apologize. (She admitted they had no actual business reason for the call, and I hung up.) She also dislodged my lap cat, but I mind that much less. Amusing thing: a Facebook message from a cousin, saying "Is this your birthday? If so, happy birthday." He apparently decided, correctly, to trust his memory over what Facebook thought.
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