Doesn't seem like I've been paying much attention to my site lately, has it? There is—fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your viewpoint—much more going on behind the scenes than just a post here or there.

Some collections of words that people apparently searched for—and encountered domesticat.net:—edmund the kitty cat
—arkansas preteen pictures
—cat eating chick picture
—i live my life and images
—i want to get rid cats sleeping on top of my car
—i'm still on the pill after ten years and i don't want to go of
—idiots with webpages
—lump under toe
—signs of impending death from pneumonia

Erm, okay. Whatever. (I'm skipping the standard pr0n stuff and just including the genuinely weird this time.)

I think this exchange might hold some interest for more people than just the original person it was intended for. Ever wondered what books I consider favorites? The letter:Amy,

I've a question for you. While in Europe I plan to read dense classics that I never would read while doing school work at the same time since that stuff is dense enough.

Discovered in a quiet and rather reticent corner of the web: Journal of a Writing Man.

Discoveries like this one tell me that perhaps I'm not the only person taking the literary path. Or that I'm not the only person attempting to create a personal site for, more than the immediate gratification of a blog, but instead of the quieter and more contemplative gratification of a journal.

I've added this page to the list of links. I suspect I'll be back to it rather quickly.

It would be a grave error if I did not mention this:

A good pair of male legs certainly isn't hurt by encasing them in a kilt. Better ventilation too, I'd dare say.

It is a bit of a pity we can't resurrect that particular bit of clothing. I think it would be a boon to the species. (Not to mention that they've got to be easier to fit than men's dress pants.)

On Saturday, we teamed up with friends and drove out to the local Scottish Festival / Highland Games, which were held in a local park. Our discussions on the way home took an interesting turn.

Do we, as a society, find our current lives so drab and boring that we find a need in ourselves to dress up and play make-believe with the past? Have our modern conveniences cheapened and sanitized our lives to the point that we have to turn to the simplicity and rusticity of the past to find meaning and enjoyment?I walked around the Scottish Festival and felt myself somehow out of place in my t-shirt, worn sneakers, and denim shorts. Around me were people decked out in clothing that we now perceive as regalia: kilts, swords, hip purses (for men as well as women), knee-length stockings, highly polished shoes.