Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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1 Comments:
I am so sorry about your break-in, and all of the other things that seem to be happening, all at the same time! I was off-line most of yesterday, so didn't see what happened until today. Hope all is much better going forward!
By Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Thursday, May 19, 2005 Yesterday was better than Tuesday. Nobody returned to the library in the dark-0-night. (and neither did those youths who have up till Tuesday clustered around the computers for hours at a time - and since there is a large group of them this is highly suspicious.) I found a source for a security system that would be under $2K. I got my hands on some sample RFP’s for security systems. I had cute little boys for story hour. I got in a good workout at the gym. Gas is now $1.95 a gallon. But it was not all better since I also found out my car needs a timing chain operation for $500 and I can’t get it till next week and in order to go visit Mama and Daddy I have to decide “Just how lucky I think I am.” Based on this week’s events I would say the car would die on me on 295 - the only _95 I have ever been known to willingly steer a car onto. And in today’s local obits I hear of the death of a slightly more than acquaintance who is one year younger than I; someone who I had no idea was anywhere near sick enough to die. She caught a staff infection about 10 years ago and has never been able to recover from it. So I think I had best postpone my visit to the far side of the James. There was no fiber play yesterday. I was feeling very active instead, so we went for a sweet walk before dinner. BD is training Jack to a leash - he goes for his 11 week shots today - and Jack is being stoic about it. At the half mile point in our usual walk we get to the place in the lane where Jacob’s Gut crosses it. Crystal clear water gushes through the culvert there, it’s weight and movement scouring out a perfect watering hole for dogs. It’s about 3 feet deep, fringed on both sides with little understory plants - soft green things that have no blossom and no fruit that we can see so we have never discovered their names. In one bush a little snake has coiled for years and years, waiting for supper to come to the watering hole as if this were the jungles of India and his name was Kaa. We’ve watched him grow from a little thumb sized snake to a nice fat thing about as thick as a garden hose. One year we had such a drought we didn’t see him at all and it made us so sad. We still call him “TheLittleSnake” even though he’s not so little anymore. He doesn’t pay the least attention to the dogs - lying still even if they brush his perch. BD says he sometimes waits on the north side of the stream now, but last night he was coiled among the branches of his usual bush, almost invisible, his bark colored skin folded among the new green leaves. Remember - snakes are your friend - especially when they willingly stay half a mile from your home and don’t move at all even when your puppies bark at them. At the mile point we heard Aunt Priss give the alarm - a yelping repeating bark. Aunt Socks, who is far less likely to seek trouble, but much more willing to defend, approached in stages, where the two of them took great exception to an invader on Haile territory. Little Jack was both curious and worried and BD said he hoped it wasn’t a skunk - that usually when their barks got that particular high pitched sound to it, that ment skunk. Thankfully it was not skunk but a groundhog - we slept peacefully last night. I will never understand why dogs don’t learn the Secret of Skunks - which is: no matter how interesting they look they always spray you and it’s not only wretched to smell, but painful on the eyes and nose. We had a big male lab who seemed to have a fatal attraction to skunks - like some miserable heroin addict. LD said that the routine for Poky was to: Attack skunk Get sprayed smack in the face Try to wipe off face in sandy road Run fast back to master and wipe face on pants leg Vow to get that sucker next time Either we don’t have as many skunks these days - or the aunts are smarter. Jack is too young to play those smelly games right now - let us hope the aunts teach him discretion. These long evenings are very sweet now that my body has finally adjusted to daylight savings time. Too bad I won’t be getting a summer off, like the kids who come in after school. You can see in their eyes that they’ve really quit going to school - at least, their minds have. Their bodies may be imprisoned behind desks, but their souls are on the river, on their bicycles, at the swim team meet, sleeping late and eating bad lunches while mama is at work. Ahh well. Thank goodness for the seasons; that huge tumbrel of time, rolling round and round. And speaking of time - mine is running out. I’d best be getting ready for work. TA. posted by Bess | 7:04 AM |
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