Chainsaw Mama and the Bleedouts
I have married into a family that owns more saws than I can count on nine fingers. In the past month, we have used three varieties: jigsaw, chainsaw, and bone-saw. Yes. We used one of the family’s TWO bone saws to hack apart the giant Wild Boar Rib Cage! that was gifted to us recently. We barbecued it, and lo, it was tasty.
I was a reluctant student of chainsawery last weekend as we cut up some firewood. I didn’t like all the noise and flying bits of wood and threat of dismemberment. My patient instructor told me never to use the chainsaw by myself in the woods because if I became injured, I would “bleed out” before anyone found me.
Operation Goat Knock Up 2007 is not going so well. Ramona refuses to get in the mood, and it looks like she might not become a mother this year. Beezus is far more promiscuous, and is having a great time with the stanky buck.
I have been spending lots of time in Juvenile Hall. Not because of my own behavior, but because that’s what my client base has become. You’d think it would be depressing, but I rather enjoy the bright, stony atmosphere, and my clients have to listen to me, as they are locked in an interview room with me. Speaking, of, I have to go back to work.