Dolce Vita, Austin, Tuesday, 2:29 pm

Danny and I have been temporarily misplaced this afternoon while the house gets organically (supposedly) treated for fleas. Miss Hannigan is off getting a bath, Philip and Cassie drew short straws and are at the vet. Leaving me and a crated unhappy Danny sitting on the patio at Dolce Vita where I’m wondering what the hell all of the other people here do for a living. I’m enjoying a sugar free vanilla italian soda and have given up on getting any real work done. No surprise, my hippy neighbor whose dogs are always getting loose in the neighborhood is here. The man at the table next to me - clearly an artist/hippy of the old school variety - is telling his friend about the haunted house he lives in. His friend suggests that he sit down and ask the spirit if he can draw her, or that he incorporate more dolls and “things that little girls like” into the decor. He seems serious. Amy Whitehouse is loudly crooning and Danny bleats in tune. There’s a little breeze, but it’s starting to feel like summer in Texas. Here’s Danny looking unhappy:

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