Tuesday, February 21, 2006
The Days Are Getting Longer
Sipping whiskey the other night it occurred to me that I feel old. We hedgehogs do not live many years, and if we are lucky enough to end our days free of trauma, we usually die of cancer. Not a thought one wants to dwell on.
It's been a while since I was even close to being good looking, my spines tend to stick out in random directions and my teeth are yellow.
But even though I find I need to spend more time burrowed in my nest, when I am on my game I'm still pretty tough. I can still cover a dozen miles over rough terrain with a full pack on a summer afternoon. I still know more than any man in the room about the most obscure subjects, although the obvious ones often elude me. I can still write a pretty good pop song in a couple of hours with nothing more than a computer and a six pack. And I like to take pretty pictures. The one above is where I live. It's a pretty nice place. My landlords are cool, the food is good, and the bathroom is always clean. I guess that's all a hedgehog can really ask for.
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