rustle

I moved from a big city to just outside a small town, got burned out, moved to a city. Don't like crowds, wanted privacy, moved closer to work 'cause the commute from a bomb site wasn't worth it. Lookin' to move to the country again if I can make a living. It's woulda been far easier and better to sell off everything before that first move.

When I was 12, we visited my aunt and uncle in D.C.. They were the most outspoken critics of each other, it became quite uncomfortable. One night, I went to bed early, just for some peace. My uncle came in, sat down on the bed, and talked with me for a few minutes about his relationship with my aunt. He said they were on the verge of divorce when they went to see a marriage counselor. They found they'd both been keeping a hell of a lot bottled up, so they resolved to start speaking their minds to one another. All the time. Bluntly. That had been 9 years earlier. 43 years later, they're still married.

I offer 2 words: fenestration - an opening in the envelope of a building, such as a door or window; also, the act of creating such an opening defenestration - the act of pushing someone out a window The Defenestration of Prague is an artwork depicting one of two historical events, in which members of government were thrown out of a window. In the movie Braveheart, King Edward Longshanks defenestrated his son's male lover. * Interesting use of the word augur, Ron. In rural Oklahoma and Texas, in the Red River Valley, they preferred "dowser" or "witcher."

I hope it's a day and a year to remember, Cel. Happy Birthday!

To be a moral compass is to live a moral life. To portray morality as desirable or noble in literature is to uphold this life. How often have we heard, "Show, don't tell," as an admonition to writers, referring only to their writings? Can we not apply this to our own lives? A writer here stated, "My riding informs my writing, and my writing informs my riding.*" *Special thanks to Sasha Distan for this

I really enjoyed this story. For Aiden to find his voice in anger and in defense of his savior, and for the reader to find it a voice of reason, of capability, and, honestly, of power, made for a very fulfilling sense of justice being done. The fact that it tore down the relationship built to that point was sad, but necessary. The ending gave the story strong hope for a bright new beginning, free of the baggage of the past. Your story has a really good premise, and strong characters. I can imagine this being reworked into something much larger.

Admirable quietude, not just in scarce dialogue, but in the deliberate pace. Good descriptors. This was a very good read, and I look forward to part 2.

Love is a fraught word. Do you like to spend time together? Is it your favorite thing? Is he? Are you holding him at arm's length, or is he deep inside your embrace? Do you crave his company, his words, his touch? Josh, babe, part of love is throwing caution to the winds, and giving yourself fully to your partner. Until you're able to say the words, you're riding with training wheels. The longer you do that, the tougher it becomes to take them off the bike. Take this wrench, and hold it for a minute. Do you want him? It sounds like he's a keeper, but DO. YOU. WANT. HIM? At some point, he's going to want to ride into the sunset, and he wants you to ride with him. But those damn training wheels aren't suited for a long ride. Sure, you may turn to the west and start out together, but that road is going to twist and turn, and training wheels won't let you bank into the curves. Before long, one of you is going to get frustrated with those damn training wheels. Are you going to break down 'cause you can't keep up, or is he going to grow impatient 'cause he's having to constantly hit the brakes? You still got that wrench I gave you? Good. Hang on to it for a while longer. When you take the training wheels off, you may fall at some point. Maybe more than once. But once you get the hang of it, it's gonna feel incredible to zip along, the wind in your face, and your heart in your throat. You're gonna know what it feels like to be free. Besides, ya know what? If you fall, he's gonna probably be there. You can't decide whether or not to love somebody, but you can decide to trust him. That's a choice. You're an introspective guy, going into the mental health care field. Do you not recognize a watershed moment? A time for a life-affirming decision? Whatcha gonna do, babe? You gonna trust him? If not him, you EVAH gonna trust ANYBODY? Three little words. You've even admitted you're not sure what they really mean. Your words, and your word, really only have the meaning that you give to them. It's up to you to define love, by living it. So, Joshie, are you gonna just sit there with your thumb up your butt, put the wrench down and walk away, knowing you may never have the courage to pick it up again, or are you gonna take off the training wheels? It's a beautiful day, Why don't you go for a ride?

Yeh, Zombie, that was me what wrote that comment. I knew you'd get the point. Dave and I have had dogs, 2 at a time, for over 25 years. They've all been crossbred. The shelters have been very good to us. Every time we lose one, I search my soul, trying to decide if I can exercise dominion over another living creature. I cannot support a breeder in good conscience, but the dogs in the shelter are already there, and the only lives they can live are in our care. When I lost Conor early this year, for the first time, there was no hesitation or doubt. I was ready to go again, like a kid on a roller coaster. Woobie Bear will be 8 months old in a couple of weeks. He's the last puppy I'll adopt, but not the last dog. I'll post a recent pic, if anybody's interested.

Take it a step further. How big are his? Is this research study itself a means of compensating for personal size?

Congratulations, Zombie, you just grossed me out. That's the cruelest hoax ever perpetrated on a dog.

I respect and admire this, but cannot bring myself to "like" it. Thanks for posting it, though. peace

maybe, but I prefer flirtation

I read a review of Miley's performance. It said she's young. That is all.

Would a traditional geological study reveal potential sinkholes? How far in the future? How far ahead should we plan development? The more we learn, the less we realize we know.

I work in government. No one in our office has a visible tat, and I don't think anyone has a piercing, aside form women's earrings. Most just have two. Would I get fired for coming in altered? Probably not, but I might not be hired, either. I have no piercings or ink, though I considered both. Couldn't decide on a design to live with the rest of my life, and just never had the drive to get pierced. Now that I'm older, it might look like a desperate attempt to deny my age.

Sinkholes can be entirely man-made. One opened downtown here because construction techniques on a storm sewer permitted a small water leak to flush out surrounding soil, until a street collapsed. Statistically, you're more likely to be killed in a traffic accident than swallowed up by the earth. Are you gonna give up driving, or take your chances and pay your dues?

Happ' Burfday, JoAnn! I would say, "Bring on the dancing bears," but I see one of the dang critters already made it. All the best, darlin'. I hope it's one to remember.

You call attention to redundancy. How true this is. Any word has its place, and every word can be overused. It's easy to fall into staid habits of expression. Often, we adopt terms of speech and writing because they're popular, common. Stale. Thanks for sharing your thoughts. Worthy of consideration, as always.

still white bread, yo but funny

I like the idea of buying US-made underwear, so I might give the one brand a try. If the quality is as good as they claim, they may outlast other brands, making them worth the extra money. Besides, trunk styles are not that common, and I find them the most comfortable length.

All the best, Renee. You and yours will be in my thoughts.

True enough. They may also exemplify traits not taught in school, or lack them. That takes me back to our unfortunate lawyer/escort. Obviously, his classes failed to impart class, taste, or symmetrical muscle development.

1. A key to getting a job is looking the part. The less imagination HR requires, the better. 2. The letter sucks. It's unprofessional in the extreme. 3. He's ugly, to boot. This is not front office appearance. 4. Yang, you're wrong about the level of the school. A friend of mine went to UH for a law degree, and retired at 45. His brother went to Yale for his degree, and is still working at 60 to pay off his student debt. It's what you do with the degree that really counts.