12 frogs read think get curious

Weasel, As a Verb

As promised, beloved walnut-brain attacks something besides his fearful, reclusive sister.

Things I could be writing about here, but have been too busy with actual life away from the computer and/or too lazy to research and post about: strange but yet not invented animals; ideas in the books I’ve been reading that would fit better not just in a review. I will blame not talking about my polaroid experiments until I get a scanner. Seems fair.

The publishing schedule? I’m going to weasel. I’ll write about animals I’ll need to research the pronunciation of, politics only when the rage boils over or I have an attack of “where are we going and why am I in this handbasket?” and odd things I come across.

Unless I’m knocked out of commission by a strange animal or UPS package. Then I’ll write all about that instead.

I’ll give you “weasel” as a verb…those are MY toys she’s letting him gnaw on…sure, she’ll tell you she rescued the penguin after getting the shot. It’s even true. But ask her how Meelo got his fuzzy paws on it to begin with….

Meelo was trying to interrupt my little photo shoot, by swatting at the subjects. His intent was to scatter the flock and possibly run off with one of the sick or weak — but I protected them. I only let him examine a lone penguin when I was done, as a reward for finally backing off. I didn’t know his baser nature would get the best of him. Maybe I should have, but sometimes you just have to give the fuzzy-faced the benefit of the doubt.