Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.

 

Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").



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   cursing red squirrel
Tuesday, September 22 2020
Gretchen's knee is still healing from the gash she received nearly two weeks ago, though we've been able to keep it glued shut for a few days now. Meanwhile I'm still on dog-walking duty. Today I went on a loop that took me most of the way up the Chamomile Headwaters Trail and then on trail-less shortcut to the Stick Trail. The dogs stayed in the forest for awhile after I returned, and Ramona returned first as usual. I thought I'd go out on the Stick Trail to greet Neville as he returned. But as I was going down the little mountain goat path behind the woodshed, I saw mother deer and her fawn down on the Stick Trail. I had my camera and started taking pictures, though the trees mostly blocked my view. And then a red squirrel in a nearby tree began raising a fuss despite the acorn in his or her mouth, the sort of thing deer are predispositioned to note. They melted away into the forest before I could make it very far. But I did get a good photo of the red squirrel. As for Neville, I don't remember when he eventually got back.
This evening Gretchen and Powerful drove up to Greenville in Greene County to watch a movie at a drive-in movie theatre. Such establishments went out of fashion before my time, but the pandemic have brought them back. Also at the drive-in would be Gretchen's friend Jasmin and her new wife Moore, both of whom recently moved here from California. Meanwhile I took advantage of my alone time by taking a leisurely hot bath.


The red squirrel who cussed at me today.


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