I admit, I hadn’t exactly been overly fond Frieda’s hound dog, Holly in this adventurous beginning.
A four yr old doxy dog was hand delivered by her mistress from a kennel dog atmosphere to mine Frieda. Admittedly we all got of on a rocky start. Poor Holly frightened out of her mind had no idea what was a happening to her whole life had been up-heaveled. Because she was a kennel bitch she’d just been neutered to protect her from any more life threatening developments before her original Mistress had hopefully given Holly away to a good home.
The 2nd day Holly bit me my having merely laid a friendly hand on her. Later that same day she ran away. I’d put the word out. Got phone calls, I followed up until She had gotten herself corner by a couple bad dogs. Then she bit me the 2nd, 3rd, 4th times all at once while sheeee was seeeeeking my protection from those BIG bad dogs. Ever since she’s more or less been tolerating me.
However, This very AM whilst I were in my bed making ZZZZZZZZZZ’s to have them interrupted with such a commotion, the telephone falling off the wall, the duffus Holly came to me seeking once more my protection. Here’s where the rub comes in, she’s done so without biting me. Me thinks she needs her head examined. She’s no longer the bitch she was the first day she had started her moving in. When I say moving in, I’m not writing about her material things: her traveling house, her blanky, her stuffed toy bear, nor food and water dishes. I’m writing of matters of the heart. Since gifted: a new collar, an ID dingle dangle, a couple leashes, a stake and wire lead: she’s decidedly here to stay.
On Micheal Jackson: Wacko Jacko wouldn’t have gotten that nick name if he hadn’t tried to change his look. The original look I respected for a man and artist he was, who’d had earned with his hard worked made music. But when he started making himself over into something (a bodied image) he wasn’t I felt as though he were trying to spoof my intelligence.
On Farrar Faucet:
She had the biggest hair. Her hair was liking a lace doily framing her face. Her figure wasn’t bad either. She was almost as pretty as the real life maid I had for real sitting beside me all these years. However I enjoyed her athletic prowess on Charlie’s Angels, when I did catch it. She was a Wow!
I’ve got me one colossal pet-pive! I’ve developed something of a skin condition whilst I’m on the cussed blood thinner coumadin. I bleed like a stuck pig from four wounds my right hand and wrist this morning. I let them bleed rather than immediately seal them, then went and washed using my bottle of soap handily stashed by the water hydrant. For just such purposes everyday. That’s everyday whether I’ve bleed or not. I often wash my hands several times a day to get rid of that cussed dirty grimy oily feeling what comes over my paws a many a day I work the shop.
Today as they did the other day the 4H cretins used my soap to wash their livestock. Today they finished it off. What the heck is this. When I need my soap I want it. Plus they behaved as if I were in their way for their use my wash rack. It ain’t only the weather what has me steaming….
To let the kids use the wash rack I devoted my time to earth moving, earth grading, loaded another hay wagon, brushhoged the farm lot enough in the hollow to get to and repair the leaking water fountain. I had rearranging my work load to accommodate the thoughtless cretins. I’m pissed.
Getting back to shop I spotted hay load, thru a bunch of trash into bags for next week’s trash pickup. Brushed away the 148 JD loader, inspected the implement’s hydraulic couplings to see if they’re workable. The primary ones are okay and usable.
Solution to my keeping my soap on hand? Hide it! Bull Sh!t.
5:30 PM, I’m heat and labored beat. Might add I’d also hit my wall. Enough is enough. With Tom’s help We’ll mount that old front end loader on the rebuilt 4020 JD tomorrow morning. Less chance for mistakes when wide-eyed, muscled fresh, sprier for quicker moves, particularly fresher/quicker minded.
I’m loosing it if I haven’t already. Time I stop dribbling my words. BGKC.