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A Rough Segment From a Dream (Blogophilia 16.16)
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The siren seemed distant. An older Mercedes with the plate KBL 1765 was in front of us. "Hey, Sweetie. I'm going to lose this Charzard." She said with a grin. Swerving to the right, the tires on the Pontiac started squealing on the set pavement. She was serious about getting away. A quick flash. The motorcycle smacked the driver's side with a loud thump. The car the windshield cracked and grass filled my mouth. Everything was quiet. I turned my head towards her. Blood was pouring down her face. "Are you mine? The sound was garbled and choked. It wasn't clear whether it came from me or her. "Maybe." Came the reply. "It's all a whispered dream, anyway." Two men came up to the driver's side window. Everything went black.
EarthSkills (Blogophilia 11.16)
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Dandelion salad you say? As long as the leaves are picked small and are well washed, I'll eat it. The thing about dandelions is they are the cockroach of plants. Once they are established in a landscape, nothing short of nuclear warfare will get rid of them. They are amongst the first plants to grow after a controlled burn. And because puffball seed heads, a plant's prodigy can spring up several miles from its origin. I learned a lot about Dandelions and other foraging plants from a teacher named Snow Bear. He is an old Hippie who adopted many of the old Cherokee ways. He taught which were medicine and which made good seasoning. He also taught me which woods are good for fire and which were toxic to burn (Rhododendron and Azalea). Over the years, I've taken a dozen of his classes and each time I come away with something new about the nature and woods around me. I'm not going to be able to attend, but he is doing classes at EarthSkills in October. Maybe in the sprin
Sam Mudd (Blogophilia 10.16)
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In a boiler room in The Unorganized Territory of Fort Snelling, MN Rnnng! Good Evening, and thank you for calling Devil's Quill Communications, the eternal source for life detriment. My name is Sam Mudd. How may I serve you today? You are running for political office and need to make your opponent look like he came from Hell? All politicians come from Hell and get sent back from time to time. What is the name? Oh, yes. He got recycled from our Greed department. It seems he was too good at his job, so the boss sent him back topside. Oh, you didn't believe Reincarnation is real? It is. In fact, you, yourself are a reject from our Lust department, Loverboy. You liked tasting the goods too much. We tried transferring you to Petty Revenge, but obviously, it didn't work since we are having this conversation now. Me? I'm all right. Don't you worry about me. I built up enough cred in the Lincoln Affair to keep me out of the loop a while longer. Anyway, I'll put this