Why is Mocha the dog on a leash, and what is he so intently looking at? you ask.
The answer is that he was lagging, sniffing around, and I saw it first, and fortunately had the leash handy.
I saw this rabbit inside the yard a couple days ago for the first time. What on earth was it doing outside the fence, and what chance in hell would it had of escaping a dog like Mocha, who loves chasing hares (liebres) Hares are big. Very big. And fast. Very fast. This rabbit? Neither.
“Make your own system.” OK: how about one where clinics and hospitals figure out that germs (or bacteria, or “viruses”) do not cause disease, and drop that disproved hypothesis? And stop generating tons of toxic waste every day out of fear of “germs?” I could go for that.
When you have an account with (literally) no friends, Facebook is apparently left grasping at matchmaking straws.
Those white envelopes contained save seeds from before the plandemic, for a cancelled seed exchange. Last spring I got a germination rate of about zero. So into a big glass they went, down to the corner lot, and scattered there. Bird food, I guess.
With friends cleaning out and clearing out, I’ve handled lots of donated books. Knowing nothing about Russian, I thought this one looked interesting.
But by now I’ve had it a lot longer than three months, and I don’t know any more Russian than I did when I got it. None.
What ARE those things? Little worms or slugs writhing toward the light?
No: dog treats. A friend gave me them. Dogs like them. I’m not sure why he had them, since he has not had a dog for a long while. He told me there was a dog walker on a bike with about ten dogs. He threw them some treats, and the guy on the bike had to scramble to avoid a crashing to the ground.
So, I said, you’ve made ten new friends and one new enemy.
That piece of firewood.
