SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Day Fifteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Fourteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Thirteen - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019
Atonement - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019


2002-08-24 @ 11:13 a.m.
Gross eh?



The smell had been growing for a while now. I'd only notice it every couple days when I came home from work and my place was stuffy. I thought I was imagining the slightly sour musty odor when I'd be reading in bed at night.

I decided to take the aggressive approch.

1. Do laundry to see if cycling and sheep clothes are the source.

2. Do dishes and throw dishcloth into the laundry

3. Sweep up feathers from Deuce's last prey

In performing objective 3, I discovered the source. Behind the box of reciepts under my bed was a half-eaten shrew.

In other news, we went to SnowJam last night. I would have been dissappointed if I'd payed the $20-30 for tickets. Yay connections. There were lots of boys to look at, unfortunatelly the majority of the males were highschool aged. The lead from Unwritten Law was a complete jerk on-stage, but we were amused as his pants rode lower and lower down his ass. While watching the pro skateboarders, we were attacked by no-see-ums. 54-40 rocked. But the crowd sucked - I guess teenage boys don't like to dance. The mosh pit was just people standing really close and supporting body surfers - no thumping momentum there at all.

I was most impressed by the lack of a line-up at the port-a-potties!

And finally, we've got an ewe with mastitis. She has the most pitiful look on her face, and she didn't even flinch when I gave her the injection drugs. I read the fine print on the bottle: Not for use in horses intended for human consumption.


Roots | Shoots