Feeling good? Good.
Clear, here. Temps rising. Around four a.m. it was cool and nice – evem though the out of season dove’s broken foot has healed and he was out in the dark peeking in windows at that hour.
Poor sod. Speaking with Renter the other day (he’s still a village councilor and they group speak with the Sheriffs department) I learned that several people have begun reporting window peepers, round about.
I’m sure, from the pictures the department has from my cameras that they know which one of the kids are doing the deed. It is just a matter of more proof – actually, more folks getting fed up with it – and the sheriff will take more action than simply talking with the parents. Who haven’t done such a hot job of raising the little snots.
Maybe I should modify that little snots stuff. These brats are a very immature eighteen.
– 15 hours ago
Some U.S. soldiers who’ll head for the Middle East on Sunday will take with them some treats provided by some Wichita Girl Scouts.
That beats a single flower down a gun barrel all hollow.
I’m finally making progress on those low notes. Belly’s sore, that six pack area, don’t cha know, but progress none the less. Dog has tried many times to find a refuge from the squeak’s and squawks of me trying to find F in the down range. He’s not succeeded yet, although he does sit near me when I practice until I start hitting dud’s.
Then he asks to go out and I find him, after practice, as far around the workshop as his lead will allow him.
So far the neighborhood dogs haven’t howled or barked at the practice. But they do not generally bark during that period either.
Maybe movie critics are re-incarnated dogs that lived with music students. And are getting their revenge.
From the reaches,