We forsook forestianity to bring our laptops into town. We're sitting in the roundabout in Old Ellijay, Georgia, traffic zipping all around us and shop owners wondering just when loitering begins. We're within sniffing distance of a geocache, but our sniffers are broken and we may leave town defeated. Again. I'm going to go check out a utility box and a lamp post, but then I'm stumped.
Annie is not sleeping well because the forest is dark at night. Except when it's lit up by truck headlights and men with flashlights. It was just some guy stopping by to sign up for the varsity hunt team at 5 a.m., and he seemed annoyed to be challenged in the performance of such an American activity. I guess it's still turkey season; we watched a tom wearing safety orange and signaling his intent to go that way that way that way that way, and I was already on his side. Go in peace, big, tasty bird. Watch out for the cranky man who has to get up early to catch his own sandwich.
I waited three days and three nights to go to Jumping Mouse Beads. Our marriage got rocky. Harsh words were spoken, aspersions were cast, intentions were impugned. But, what matters is that I got there.
ETA: Annie just yelled at me really loud because it sounded like I said we were fighting. We weren't fighting, okay?
Do you guys wonder how nomads get rid of garbage? Here's a clue: it looks sneaky.
Our refrigerator stopped working on propane. Annie read the manual (?) and decided the burner was probably dirty. We went looking for a shop vac and pipe cleaners. [If you find them in the craft section, they are "fuzzy sticks."] Within 15 minutes she had that puppy chilling. Plus, we enjoyed a Quorn cutlets/salmon/edamame/turk'y/corn casserole.
I haven't been visiting your blog, but I still love you. There's no one else. It's not you, it's me. I've been tired lately.