Ramblings on a Wednesday 4.6.22

A close-up picture of JimJim from my not-so-great phone’s camera.  His little toofsomes are so adorable.  He claims that he is not a model. He is a ferocious feral killer who strikes fear into the hearts of birds, squirrels (who I’ve seen laugh at him, but shhh), and mouses everywhere.  He doesn’t want photographic evidence of domestication. He says this, but when I’m outside calling him, he runs to me meowing the whole way.  And, he’s not opposed to traveling by biped.  Sure, JimJim, whatever, the whole yard knows you’re a domesticated cat who likes cuddling and snuggling with bipeds, has an indoor bathroom, and is fed copious amounts of food.

There are 35 school days left before summer vacation, but who’s counting?  I am!

Fog is crawling across the farm field.  The morning has a strange and mysterious color to it.  Perfect for keeping the lights off while writing or the perfect set-up for a horror movie.  This is why I avoid those sorts of movies unless it has a damn good story.  Tempt me with a good thrilling story and then it’s a few nights of scary dreams and ensuring one icy foot is jammed between The Hubs’ warm thighs. My imagination likes to spew weird things much like an excited monkey throwing poo.

Oh! I saw a bald eagle yesterday on my way to The Land of Lunch.  It flew down in front of Phryne (the truck I drive) and then swooped back into a tree.  They are such majestic beings.  It was probably after a tasty morsel and had its dining experience ruined by a stupid biped barreling down the road.  The stupid biped was running on the edge of might be late to work if I don’t put the peddle to the metal.  I can still feel the warm sting of its annoyance prickling my skin.

Thank the GAWDS for writers who share their hard-earned wisdom and knowledge on the Interwebs.  I don’t know what I would do without them. That story I’m working on?  It felt off.  Welp, I had successfully left my protagonist off stage and supporting characters took over.  I found the protagonist sulking in the corner sucking his thumb. He was coaxed back into the story with promises of rewrites and fleshing out more parts of his story.  Plus, I had to ask nicely for input such as what did he want to learn from this adventure.  Surprisingly, you can teach an old Devil new things.  Now you know the identity of the protagonist in my story.  Yup. That’s all you’re getting for now.

Probably why I love it so much!

Why are there two posts in one week?

I had more to share than I could fit in the bra post.  Oh yeah!  BRAS. Did you know there is such a thing as a sister-size in Bra-ville?  It’s bad enough the mathematical calculations required to figure out your correct size.  Oh, no.  Let’s add on more computations so you can try on other sizes too! Let’s make it cute and call it a Sister-Size.  Womxn will love it.  No. No, we don’t love it.  There’s enough nonsense we deal with when shopping for clothes.  I’m all for a no-clothes culture.  Wear them only when you need to keep warm, to keep flopping appendages safe from getting pinched and bumped, and of course, waggling in someone’s personal space. Sure, this opens up a need for new etiquette, but I think we could handle it.  Who am I kidding?  Wasn’t there a big kerfuffle around wearing something over our noses and mouths?  Oh yeah, there was.  I can and will keep dreaming.

I need to stop blathering on over here and get a bit of story writing accomplished before breakfast and heading off to The Land of Lunch.

May your day be free of waggling appendages, uncomfortable bras, and hooey-ish felines.

hOgs ‘n fIsHes,

Tracy

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