A web friend found a clever picture maker. Just type in a title and an image appears. You (or rather, an algorithm) turns your title into a(n abstract) picture. Presto virtual art here! Here's mine: Meatful things aren't eatful things.
Today I saw an oil truck on the lane pumping oil into to backyard tank next door. Sheenan's place. Now Sheenan has been gone since January. And last week a neighbor yelled across the lane (out of respect to the virus) that Sheenan had a falling out with her kin, and so decided to relocate (leaving some of her gear still on her driveway). But someone is using oil in that trailer. That truck was out there pumping for a while. Does the trailer have a squatter? Dare I knock on th
Spring is finally spiking with spikeful things spiking out of my sodden yard. Did I mention the spikiness? The bunnies leave these points alone (too pointy?) and so they grow into hostas. Too early yet to start my garden, but these baby beauts are leading the way in my own little greenway!
Just when I thought spring had changed its mind, and the rain would turn to snow, I looked out of my mudroom window and saw... The bunnies are popping out of the ground, right into springtime! Soon I will prepare my lettuce garden, so they can much on gourmet greens this summer.
Lopstick, a once humming (wasps and neighbors) hub of trailer improvement projects in spring, is empty of activity. Neighbor sightings are sparse, and even the woodland creatures (save for a few bunnies) are still deep in the forest. My prepper neighbor was kind enough to build a park in front of my trailer a few years back. Spring through fall, after working construction all day, he would sit there with his dog and smoke his legals. (Yes, the dog actually sat on the bench to