The Callandret Appeal

I wrote a series of stories featuring Culhane Callandret.  One of those was about the Poe River bank robber.   He robbed a bank in Frederickburg, Virginia.  Fredericksburg is not too far off from where Miss Mirabelle  had her fine home.  It's also pretty close to where the bank robber ran when  he got out of the bank.  He had the total of the tills in a brief case.  He ran to a beatup car parked in the alley behind the bank.  He drove off into the steaming suburbs of Fredericksburg, thinking he would hole up on the Poe River.  He got out on 55, the interstate that runs almost in a straight line up to Alexandria.   He turned off at the exit he knew would take him out to the little back road that was to be his hiding spot.  He drove the car into a swampy place that even in the hot summer day was still mud and clay.  Cicadas were making their rattling raspy sound from t he trees along the river bank.  The bank robber pulled the car into a spot that covered it with brush.  He got out and walked along the river's edge, listening to the water moccasins sliding into the slow moving brown water.

After getting a mile or so down river, the robber decided to sit down in the shade to count his take.  He clicked open the brief case, staring at the green bills laid out inside.  As he sat there with the sweat dripping off his brow, a shiny snake slithered up behind him.  It bit him in the back of the neck.  He fell over dead on top of the money.

Culhane came into this story because Miss Mirabelle phone him the afternoon the robbery took place.
"Can't have common thieves taking over our commonwealth," she sternly said to Culhane.
"That's right, Miss Mirabelle, we certainly can't have the Commonwealth of Virginia sullied in such a fashion."  Culhane was adroit with his mother.   He knew just how to steer  her boat and keep her happy.

Culhane was a forensics detective with the FBI.  He hung around Quantico teaching new recruits the ropes, looking for ones with an apptitude for forensics, sometimes hitting the jackpot with recruits like the young man he was bringing with him down to Fredericksburg, Jason Franks.  Jason was from Ohio, his father a policeman in his hometown.  Jason was smart and a quick learner.  Culhane was enjoying following the trail of the robbery with such an eager student.

"Well, we'd better get a look at the surveillance cameras at the bank first off, don't you think?"  culhane asked Jason.
"Yes, sir."
They walked into the Commonwealth Bank, his mother's place of business when she was banking.  The tellers were still shaken by the robbery.  The local police had been in with crime scene kits and there was residue of fingerprint dust on all the counters.
"Just wanna look at t he surveillance tapes for that time," said Culhane to one of the tellers.  The teller got the manager and the manager played the surveillance for them.
"Looks like little Petey Jamison from up yonder, ya think?" asked culhane of the manager, who was a family friend.
"I'd say that be him, but for that crookedy hand he's got there, looks like he scraped it up a bit, mangled it somehow.  Don't recollect Petey  having a hand like that but if someone was going to rob a bank around here, Petey'd be the one I'd be prone to point a finger at."
Culhane played the tape a time or two to be sure, he had his man.  then he put in a call back to the office asking for a run sheet on Petey Jamison.  It came back quickly and as he screened the information it contained, he became certain the robbery had been comitted by Petey.
"Reckon we'll be taking a little ride out by the Poe, see if Petey's holed up at the old moonshine shack they used to have out that way.  See if we can come up with anything useful."
Culhane had never been one to swim the Poe, at least not along the country lane where the Jamison farm had stood.  It was never kept up very well, Petey had gone barefoot summers to save on shoes, there were chickens running everywhere, paint peeling, roof sagging, driveway a rutted blotch  full of puddles and mud come winter.  Culhand steered the bureau sedan down the bumpy lane and parked near the old place.  It had been abandoned years before, the roof still held but barely.  The porch was gone and the front door stood wide open.
"Fine place for a meth lab," said Jason.
"Wouldn't be suprised if it was," said Culhane.  "Ba

a nonedited world...

as I was writing about Cause Boy and Jeannette I saw myself reading this glib little toesander to m y writing circle, specifically the patron saint of roasting yourself.  I realized I would never read Cause Boy's intro piece but I could work more on the Seth Roen attitude..and that's not a typo just him reading interesting newspaper articles like the time Almost calle dup from down south a ways and said the kids at his military school were thinking it would be nice for a rqace relations band tour down their way and would Daddo do that for his kinky counterparts in the gray serge...shoot we even had a cat named Sergie for a while...full name: Surge Protector...that's  how school dug its toenails into Almost, cause's oldest and most fullsome...well, trying to make this a Seth Rogen standup 'essential' as it were and if I keep dialed to the write station (I see my thermo reading here is like 'not even particulating'...clears throat... I might get there...
tomorrow's our read aloud day and I'd to have something not out of the manual of I am a living breathing human being dudes...but yes, my memory is inteact and I'm not writing this to say I can still remember things...like how will I ever forget my daughter's conversation with me today "as far as perrfect people go...you aren't" pretty much the summation of what she said...and therefore, am not so inclined to be of humor but eh...she's lpregnant or something or something and I can't be bothered with her attitude adjusting...now that's something Rogen might get a tooth or two into...the sassiness of progeny...

right

first off let me say this about that...a kid age fifteen, or a bit younger or a bit older...is not the only known authority in the universe about anything or everything or something.  if a parent lets this child become an adult still thinking that himself is the last word on your bangs or your suit, you are in for a lifetime of trouble because this child will ever after remember to remind you you encouraged him to be a brilliant light in a dull world.  That he may shine in your world like retread tires or peeling paint is beyond the point.  He doesn't live next door anymore because he's all grown up and spending what you have on things to make him fatter, more sacrosanct.  He will be there at the appointed time: death of an immediate family member, drug overdose, class reunion (his, of course) but never for something like a cup of tea and hot cookies fresh out of the oven.  He just can't be bothered because you told him he was a success...He's out there proving it to you, especially, , because you're the one who said it in the first place...that he would be a success.
Try to see this kid when  he's first got the brain wheels grinding and you're doing that encouraging parent thing with him, he's probably just flushed the poddy by himself and you make it out to be signing the Declaration of Independence.  See yourself saying to him:  Mudhjan, no one but your small self would make such an integral connection to this process.  You are without a doubt the most clever person Allah ever allowed to thrive on this plane... come, we must go see to the olives and toss down a few while we are at it. Mudhjan is at this time a tender two and a half but you've just told him he's really Leonardo Da Vinci and you're going to get him a drivers' license that says so, so he can drive everywhere running over other peoples' chickens proving this point.   This is what parents do to their progeny in their misguided wish to be enthusiastic of the intepretation they have of how much they adore their children.  It's not really too much of a good thing as no one in this world gets enough love and that's why God made us in the first place in his image so we'd be able to withstand the idea we're not really Him and so  we will always be lacking the wherewithall it takes to transcend good and evil.  We can depend on the Almighty to let us get it wrong  and only if we're above ground do we have the right to fix it ourselves.
When it comes to our kids we can really take a left turn for Boston w hen we hit Philly.  We think we're headed in the right direction until good ol Scranton shows up on the roadsigns and we wonder maybe it's time to find the Brandywine and see if Andrew Wyeth really is everywhere around there.    Yeah, this kid relations thing has been going on since kids were saying it that way "why.eth must I do ith it this way?? or probably in Adam and Eve's day...adam jr or 'cain' as he was known..is asking about the ripe pugencillia that specifically got the family barred from 'the good place' where a.j. (adam jr./cain) was fond of floating in a particularly warm pond of a summer afternoon and he missed that yummy fruit that hung over the pond and he could just snatch a morsel here and there as he floated along...  He asks his pops: "when we movin' back to the 'hood, Adam??' because AJ is abrupt and partial at the same time, at least in how he sees himself talking to good old Dad..  That''s when father Adams (or put yourself in his shoes and go for it)  tells his son, "kid, we're not returning because we  did something our Father in Heaven said we s houldn't..." now, I don't know if it was your mother having a midnight snack, or you just having it fall in  your lap and you ate it, or how it happened, but it did and we don't get to go back there and float around in the warm watter any more, not to mention idealize the pugencilia in carvings and odes and nonspecific cave paintings,"   Herein in Adam's innocent belief in his son's nonintegral position as to his own portion of the collective consciousness...this is where the anytime parent will do the same...'this kid is such an icon to me I can't see the forest at all for that one lovely tree'..and so you do...so you musteth..
let ye fall down flat on ye face should get that kid's head so swelled up he thinks he daVinci though...  never for one second let it be known your heart bursts with pride at their first step but yet you may brag even and later and soon about the same action t his child performed if only  you have that bit of humilty to it that the child is very aware of as it was  his first life's lesson from you "I'm not the greatest person ever to exist, only Jesus got to be that guy, probably Buddha and Siddhartha gave lessons to Jesus on how to be invincible but I'm not ever going to be those guys.  I'm going to be the best guy I can be and next to my supreme being of choice, I love my folks best of all.."  t hat's what you oughtta teach your kids..not that they are DaVinci..but that you are?  right??
,

definition of the meaning of 'blog'...

ok, to date I have used my blogs as a means to an end..a way to end something I'm t hinking of that makes me feel 'mean'...as in the mien..I experience needs a good venting, so I blog it out of me...and it's worked pretty good b ut often is a libelous sit uation wherein I'm grossly overvented about whatever it was, which all works out in the end but during the transition to it being a good thing there's a place in there where to blog is to get rid of the overflowing venom of t he moment..and t hat works
the definition of 'b'log...to record in binary fashion a logging of events to me means the quoted resumption of felling trees (logging) meaning you didn't really cut them down but rather saved paper and circulation effort by writing in cyberspace and well, do you want everyone reading what you write? mmmm, maybe...if it's a good thing like my piece 'evolution of the post nuclear society'...all hip I was on t hat topic after several semesters at the college level learning about the science of sociology...and turns out I was familiar with demography already...so that worked that I should go all aldous huxley and quote myself in a logic parameter as far as why we hadn't really ever dropped any more nuclear weapons after H N...hmmm?? t hank goodness
which isn't to say I dislike the soviet union because I do...that country would like to incinerate t he rest of us and we're not having it but on the same level we can use nuclear technology to t urn that warring attit ude into lots of milk cows, cats and dogs, venison, twenty nine varieties of chicken pork fish and other protein edibles because atomic st uff just isn't likely to parsec bad intent...I don't think that particular science can work that way, otherwise chain reaction of HN would have lit the map ever since and does it?  we are perched on the brink, certainly but as I recall from somewhere at St Martins' probably, the Trojan Horse was considered on the same level as HN...just deadly warfare waiting for curtain calls to send us all to h.e. double toot hpick...as it were
so be log..to be log...to blog, means as to let out the steam of t he observation process and record the transition of thought into process into intellectual output...well, I thought about it then I u sed t he computer and I wrote down my ideas...some blogs are very popular and the advertising on them is an actual lucrative element to the author...how nice...to be paid...great
like writing jokes for Seth Rogan...(somebody should,  he's a pretty funny guy)...
Seth Rogan jokes:  first off, get him decent material on the topic of human relations in the reproductive Zone...EITHER this guy hasn't ever had an experience in that department or he believes it's all a big heehaw and we should not be embarassed but crude, we'll be more comfortable with the entire situation if we ..do it t hat way.  his first movie I saw 'he's  having a baby' or something about being t he baby daddy when he wasn't,  he was pretty good and right away he went to stellar with that one show...then he gets all chummy with adam sandler and the thing is like what,  you both jumped in the cold pool and shriveled up your writing/comedic integrity being the jOb??  hmmm...somehow we s houldn't get produced if we're honing dribbles...but they do and people watch 'em because of their name...now, a good Seth Rogan joke?  ..or mentor sandler...here's you go
an yeah, I think both these guys are like ssizzlllerrrs so why not be purrfect??
k...seth rogan...rogen??  right, oh yeah leave the jewish factor in too, it's always good, very plantangenet...
k...
seth:  I'm up here on stage beca use one of my friends, name not to be shared, thinks I'm perfect husband material...why?  I dunno know about that one, probably because I'm a dope whenever she's around...I mean, really, wh en she walks in the room I feel like a jar of peanut butter...all the gooey interior of that jar is me...spreadable, kind of tasty?  it's like t his chick is a mind cannibal and she's got my number man...I feel damp all over, sorta sweaty, gooey and mostly, STUPID!!  I mean, you could ask me my name and it'd be 'duhhhhhh' because of that chick magnet factor, she's got it, the whole deal, she's got it...well...I know I'm not the only one who feels like t hat when they're totally attracted to someone...my friend Jeanette, she lives halfway down south in t his major big city and she got this what they call a row house, I mean like you all row toget her if you're in a boat because the houses have common walls, you know, a big brick wall between each hooks t hem up so there's like fifteen on a block and they got one two t hree stories with something called a 'french' basement...AHH i GOT THAT WRONG ENGLISH  BASEMENT...it's sometimes got an English basement where what? they used to hide the bodies, shovel t he coal, rent the thing out to do other peoples' laundry?  anyways, nuff said, she gets t his house and it's cool, all torn up with the lathe showing, you know lathe, cheap little sticks of wood that now cost a fortune and all this frosting of plaster going over it so you got plaster walls...no drywall buddy, this is the real thing,  you could hide uncle morty in there and the best sniffing German Shepard wouldn't find  him...so back in the day when these were drug trading neighborhoods, this was a good option, you got the plaster walls, k t hen, we there...which is not what I'm talking about as far as being stupid but yeah, drugs do tend to make you turn out that way right?  boy am I digressing...k...
so Jeannette, she gets this place on a street called Swann Street, which I thought was a good name for a ducky place like what she was going to do with that house...all sweet and simple up and she says she's got these riffraffy friends of hers in and outta there tearing up floors ceilings, plumbing, back yard ahhh. nope they didn't find no bones ceptin the ribs somebody was fond of and that giant great dane of hers Ezekiel (Zeke for short) made short work of those puppies...she says, she's in the front room one evening with her cronies and their blueprints and t heir ragrug weaving  satchels, they were all into goofy crafting st uff at the time and were planning on writing a play and doing some music and maybe throwing around some plaster, oh yeah, Jeannette was casting st uff left and right there for a w hile...so anyway, she's kind of laying on the fllor on a quilt she made, we're all proud of did it myself t hing or we were...she's lying there and in comes this guy from NYC who makes  her thump and bump and get really stupid...she can't help it, no way is she telling him that she's big time hot for him because he's one of those cause type people and if you know t hem, the cause comes first, then the human interaction.. so he walks in the room and high fives everybody and they all know him because they all subscribe to his cause,  which as causes go was a kind of risky thing, it being t he dark ages before the legalization of marijuana...and t his fellow subsequently did major time over having that cause and we should give him a round of applause that he took it to the gate man yeah...ok
but jeanette she was like totally wrapped in that dude and it was she said he started it because she was cooking in the kitchen one fourth of july, probably that was the summer before and it was pouring rain and no way were they going to conduct any kind of radical demonstration on the mall by the White house when it was going this pour down...so she's in the kitchen putting together an apple pie and she happens to bend over in some cuttoffs blue jean that displayed bare anatomy and Cause Boy spied the nontush bare parts and Cupid's arrow went ZINGGGG right into his Damocles sword...I dunno in trying to clean up my act I reserve the right not to use inappropriate language to describe what differentiates men from women because both such elements are truly part of this little story...and in that case Jeannette's hearthrob was displaying a tumescence of outstanding proportion considering he was about 5'8                     9...she said she could see eye to eye with him and she sat down in front of him with those long silky bare legs of hers and the aroma of the apple pie hot out of the oven on the table infront of them...well everyone in the room jumped up and dove on the pie because t here was a moment there when it was like true love got ground up to powder and turned into so much plaster...at least in Jeannette's mind she got totally stupid in that moment and for the next year did nothing but write to Cause Boy and tell him in every letter in a DIFFERENT way...why she was in love with him...well, he didn't give her the time of day and never has...not once, he didn't respond t hen, other than to let her see for two seconds that he had a ...what the dog dug up in her backyard because former tenants had a fondness for barbeque...and Jeannette said it was her year of being stupid when he walked in the room the winter of the summer when she'd made the pie...and she couldn't get up from the floor but laid there listening to his voice trembling because he had t his voice t hat went right t hrough ya...kind of like a drill press you know?  miter saw...dentist's filling tool...blow torch...and he was in the next room sticking his finger in the so ur cream dip yakkkin on about tuna fish sandwiches for dinner and chocolate milk...and she was under the covers by t hen, trying to squeeze  herself under the couch because it wasn't s ummer any more and she wasn't wearing her c utoffs and baking pies but lying on the floor in her living room having a life getting over the back he had th at summer displayed t he outlines of a part of his anatomy to her that indicated there really is a thing called cupid's arrow...or that cupid exists...so after that winter visit when she said not a word to him but wrote  him all that 'florid prose'...about dang...I shudda gone for it but h ow could I?  why didn't I why shouldn't I wouldn't you like to?  com'on buddy, let's ...I hear that barry white guy singing that tune about now because t hat is w here Jeannette was at...and she realized after a year's worth of letters that cause boy was sticking true to his cause and she was nothing more to him than a hot apple pie fresh out of the oven set on the table...with bare legs...
and cause boy went back to Hell's Kitchen where he had hotwired /diverted/ConEd power and so forth to run a kind of rats in the woodwork sort of operation of which he was the total guru and no time for Jeannette who grieved about it, writing as she did about whatever went on with all the passion of a person who does get stupid when they fall in love...oh man...ahhh...I sigh  here because that's great that we can lau gh about those feelings but they are what makes the world go round and hopefully those of us intended to have them as part of our life's experience get to make it all the way around the bases to homeplate in a state of consciousness...Jeannette said t hat if Cause Boy had act ually accepted her responses to  his covering up the remains of rib dinners from the barbeque over on 14th and T...such might have been true love and justice and maybe little CB's and CG's running everwhere...reall irony of this story?  Cause Boy lived right up the street from the club CBGB;'s...how's that for irony?  sighs...
I lifted this plate off the dishrack and I inspected it to see if I could see my face in it and I could so I used it to eat up the french toast that gave me the inspiration to write t his...nah...my gags person did that but as it happens, I find it an amusing little story of love in the big city dog bones and all....

heard from the beg kahuna

mmhmmm...good ol billjay was your typical droid, loose as a goose and pissing on your head if he had had too much, dad was a real bludgeoner to him, couldn't be helped, had to marry damudder and that's how it was...cause billjay was on the way...so he finally passed on, tried from the time he was a teenager to cross the golden rainbow and he finally did it...lots of good times with him but there it is, couldn't be helped and definitely didn't want to get in the way of John Jay, he was a lean mean frightening machine and passed on while we were still in s hort pants, thank goodness, same is true of the latest gabriel judgement  honoree, I say gabriel but I mean peter, maybe gabriel's the angel that decides if they can even ask if they get into heaven, hmmm...well in this case it is PL who dropped, and now there's only DL which is the two of them together in a big pork sandwich...as I see it the trouble hasn't gone away but there's no fascista element to it now, it's just going to be totally mean whatever happens and I know my biggest eldest is in the middle of it (transmission to prove ...hehe) and then t here's DL who's in the hospital with stitches up his back...want to ask if he's ok he's coming  home tomorrow, but might want to let sleeping dogs lie for a little longer, maybe...anyways, off to the firehall pretty quick here, need to go home and do some dishes, big old t hunder clouds up there looking ominous and girls have a fore sale sign in t he winder at the gallery but haven't discussed what the plan is on that...figure  it's actually my property but won't go there until the curtains are lifted in the dark night of time passing...course I went and bought a lotto ticket for ten bucks to try and get t he grease together for the dentist this week but didn't win nothing and lost my only ten bucks in the process which was totally not fun but there it is...use this blog to spout off and being as I was in this life on this beach hundreds of years ago in a different life, I should be talking about clam harvest and what washe dup on the shore but I'm in reality as I see it and t he dishes need doing and the dogs are in the house by themselves and life's not real interesting ot her t han I truly  need extra work to put together some money but it'll all work out
meanw hile..off to the races of life and somewhat integrated into that the passing of PL and hopefully DL and DL are ICBM, hmm???t hat could work, hehe

a years worth of aluminum cans

just been to bellingham to the technical college there for dental work...am due back on May 7 for a cleaning which will be 47 dollars.  I had been saving to see the new baby in October, the son in Maui and the hot water heater...after this recent trip I am down to nothing again because of hotel expenses that I hadn't counted on.  I was told in March that I could stay on an 'air mattress' but then when I got there at 9pm sitting in the car in the back alley of 'the place' the facts were suddenly illuminated in black and in white: nope, never said that, this is not that kind of house, the roommates say no...and so on...and 'forgot' you were coming...and so on...and you see this big fat effigy trotting around in the meetings you go to and the prayers you make sucking up all the good that you hope comes from this life and know that that is the voice that is saying 'I never said that'..as though it were a countenance that actually holds water/which I know it doesn't because I've seen it leaking out all over the slacks of an adolescent/son thereof...meanwhile, funds for another trip to the technical college are nonexistent and I don't know where I can raise six hundred dollars to make the trip because all my savings went into accomplishing this last visit...I was trying to be resolved on my return home to get the funds together for the next adventure, cleaned up the garage and sorted out all the aluminum cans, which there were several large bags full.  "I'll take them to the recycle place and get money for them to start my work towards the next trip" I thought.  Well, I drove into town this morning with the back of the station wagon loaded with flattened aluminum cans.  When I get there I see an obviously mentally challenged young man in a coverall sorting out a great wad of copper wire.  Two men inside the building come towards me and retrieve my great sacks of cans which they promptly dump into their scale
Eleven dollars and seventy cents is what they gave me for my day and a half worth of labor sorting out all those cans.  That is how I am beginning my work to get the resources together to make the trip back to the technical college to have my chipped teeth worked on.  I think about the things I could do to make money but I keep coming back to the fact that what I did have saved went for hotel rooms.  I feel angry about that but I am trying to dissolve that anger with productive reasoning.  T his seems to be in short supply as I contemplate t he fact that I have not yet paid the electric bill for this month, nor the telephone which was exorbitantly high last month.  I haven't opened that bill yet and it too is due...I've also been served with notice that Discover is suing me so there are some big thunder clouds on the horizon...
his quiet voice tells me to be confident, that it will all work out well yet eleven dollars and seventy cents is a paltry beginning to this challenge...I wonder what I can do...certainly there is enough 'stuff' in my house to create a yard sale but who is this little town needs any of it?   certainly the goodwill chain stores are pricing their goods for a lot more than they used to but when it comes to a little yard sale like I would have, prices would be so low they'd be like giving things away..it's a challenge.. I know I'm up for it but I am truly concerned, it's been like this for some time, I don't know the solution, I could paint the backroom at the church and bill for it but it certainly wouldn't be six hundred dollars, which I need for  this next trip 300 for the chipped front teeth and 47 for the cleaning, two nights in the hotel, a wednesday and a thursday, gasoline for the trip...seems like a miracle waiting to happen...I told my mother about my concerns.  she was her usual self about this situation...'on my little pittance I couldn't help out at all'...'pat doesn't get anything'...that sort of thing...I thought about calling a family member 'can you loan me six hundred dollars??'...hmmm...haven't heard from that one for months now...likely why because I've never asked that question

here we are and here's what I've heard

Liz is with us now..her annual visit, in the time of the mushroomhunting...occurs during a particularly dry spell for us, by now the rain has come and we are socked in by it, planning our escapes to warmer climates - wendy is on her way to Kahalui in the next day or so...Martha and Paul have left for San Diego and the Norfolk pine has been established at the Sekiu Center...tonight we meet for WEYCC to discuss the apple cider pressing we did Saturday and raised $530..there's a firehall meeting as well but I may only stay for the vehicle inspection as I am secretary for WEYCC...my mother is having issues of a sort, Monique Nelson died and she is very grieved over this as Monique was a great friend to her (when they were both cognizant)...as it stands, my mother is in failing health, weak, wobbly and frail/all words meaning the same thing but each a unique condition
on the front line with DL I am still unsure if I should give him a call or not, as he posted that he'd lost his cell phone and that people should call him so he'd have their number, I don't know that I should do this duh...very up in the air about it since he's not the most pleasant of people to be around, kind of biding my time although I do miss seeing him, he's posted pictures of himself with Dawn Gill, apparently that was his last visitor as he hasn't posted anything else since and I check that facebook page often...little spy that I am..have been settling into my new bedroom in the very back, did the bills this morning, cleaned up and sorted just a bit, should be there now but I'm here at the visitor center and there's someone in using his laptop for the wifi...I suppose I could be doing more research for my own pet projects but I'm not...charged up three dollars at the quarter store so I'll have to settle with them whenever I put some money in my wallet...still haven't spoken to JoAnn Willard and I miss her every day...I don't know why I'm avoiding her but I've been working with the new neighbor at the end of her block, Dana, and been driving right by her house where I used to feel so welcome..I guess God will give me an answer on that one, meanwhile my brother is taking my mother to the clinic today for a check up, my brother in Port Orchard has volunteered to take Mom for a while to give Pat a break 

went for a long walk on the beach before coming home to make some lunch...found five nice agates, one rather large one, funny how I always pop them in my mouth upon retrieval...like a bird eating gravel I am..weather is gorgeous, again...but I'll have to water so there's the downside last night I beat back the blackberry cane and clipped off the burgeoning salmonberry in the flower beds..watched a british miniseries Parades' end which well it was pretty good if long, still working on the interior of the house...want to paint so bad, have an art exhibit coming up so I SHOULD be painting but in the process is all I am, today feel a bit sleepy due to good lunch, dogs in car and its warm so can't stay, dishwasher is running at home, best be off...
good writing session at least..how I miss the one I love (rogikanatzar).el tico..