Warming Up

It's sunny! 84 degrees is the forecasted high. 84!
Of course, now I have to shave everything. Ok, not everything, because the older I get, the less I care about cactus legs, but I'll make an effort.

George is outside, variously taunting the neighbors' chickens, and gossiping with their shaggy, white terrier. I get nervous when I see them, each on her respective side of the cyclone fence, looking very engaged in whatever kind of exchange they're having. Are they talking about their humans? Is George bragging to the dog that she gets a special treat just for coming in from outside? Is she bargaining with Shaggy, promising to share her quarry if she'll just look the other way while George barges into the chicken coop?

They're up to something, devious critters. Sure, they're cute on the outside, but they're all predation and bloodlust and roundworms on the inside. And it's what's on the inside that counts.


OK. I need better coffee. This isn't working, but I'll post it anyway and get my ass to an espresso clinic.

Cindy