You know when you go to create a new folder on your computer desktop, called "desktop cleanup," into which you plan to drop all the miscellaneous documents that have been accumulating on your desktop in order to, you know, organize things, but you can't: because you already have a folder on your computer desktop called "desktop cleanup" that's at least six months old - well, when that happens, you know you have a problem. That sentence even needs cleaning up.

Let's just say that I currently have the following folders on my computer desktop: "desktop cleanup" (which now contains several fewer items than it used to - because I CLEANED them UP), "desktop cleanup 2" (seemed the most "organized" way to do it quickly), "Harley cleanup" (which contains pictures of Harley), "work cleanup," and "house cleanup." I also still have thirteen documents on my desktop, of various kinds and sizes, because I am a lazy slug. Mind you, the "desktop" is not the ideal place to "store" anything on a computer, which is why I also have three "aliases" on the desktop, which is Mac speak for things that look just like folders but are instead magical little things that point to the actual folders that are where they should be: officially on the hard drive. These are called "ideas" (which contains 287 images of interesting things), "backups" (which contains 369 different versions of the same three databases dating back to late 2007) (pauses for a moment to wipe the tears from her eyes), and - somewhat ironically - "to be archived," which contains (you must know what's coming) nothing. I kid you not.

Obviously, I have a problem when it comes to dealing with electronic artifacts from my life. Which I've slowly been trying to tackle, and is precisely why I now have that new "organizing" folder on my desktop called "Harley cleanup," which contains (I'm pretty sure exclusively, but at this point my brain is not necessarily entirely reliable when it comes to organizing things), 53 photographs and movies that I took off of my iPhone, which serves as my mediocre camera.

Now, let me point out two things. First, I am pretty sure there's at least one other group of photos still on the phone that should be put into "Harley cleanup" instead. I am choosing to ignore this fact for now. Second, cleaning up the photos on the iPhone is a point of contention, since I keep trying to organize the photos on my computer, where it's easy, instead of on the phone, where it's difficult (since there are, um, about 600 of them), but apparently, until the next software upgrade which should happen sometime in September, the phone overrides things I've done on the computer. That is, the organizing folders copy over just fine, but all the photos I opened individually and carefully trashed from the computer still exist on the iPhone. Because the iPhone knows better than me. Apparently. I am choosing to ignore those photos, at least until September.

(Meanwhile, should I mention that I can't find a copy of my resume, either on paper or in electronic format, ANYWHERE?!?!? Yeah, probably not.)

So, this was a long, obsessive-compulsive introduction to the fact that I discovered some photos on my camera, currently in the folder on my desktop called "Harley cleanup," and soon to be moved to a more appropriate archive (because I actually am capable of organizing some things, some of the time), of mediocre quality but still worth posting. Here we go.

I was in the midst of cleaning the Finsterium, as it turns out for the last time, and was performing the longest task (putting layers and layers of poop paper down), but not the most annoying task (sweeping out the cage itself). Harley likes to watch anyone do work, and since the Finsterium was in the same room as he, the sweeping out part was his favorite. I thought it wa's "annoying" because in order to get to the corners, I had to carefully insert the entire upper half of my body into the cage itself, through a door that's just about too small for me to fit through. Of all the things I miss about the Finsters, I do not miss sweeping out the Finsterium. Unfortunately for Harley, the much longer and less annoying task of adding layers and layers of paper to the two side trays took place in the kitchen, just about out of sight of his cage. So he called out, and complained, and called out and complained, and called out and complained some more, and finally flew over to the kitchen table to help.

Which in Harley's world, of course means tearing up the paper into spit balls.

At the time, it seemed like he managed to make an awful lot of spit balls before I finally managed to put him somewhere out of range, but come to think of it, I don't remember encountering very many chewed-up pieces of paper when I freshened up the Finster's cage every few days. Maybe I'm just so used to having random bites taken out of paper products, I didn't notice.

On a related note, I finally took Cinnamon and Ginger out of the freezer on June 3, and buried them next to a newly-planted ornamental grass that I'm hoping will grow to be taller than I am one day. Peanut remains in the freezer, awaiting the Zombie Apocalypse.