Karbon Kounty Moos

I will be in Helena to meet with the Executive Branch. Does anyone have any questions (regarding brucellosis, please) that they’d like me to ask?

This morning I saw that someone had hit a fox on the lane in front of the house. I put it on the tailgate of the pickup, which chose to die there, too. In the middle of the lane.

I convinced Sugar to leave the fox alone. We walked to the Mule.

The Kawasaki started right up. Then the shifter, too, decided it was a good day to die. So it’s running, it’s just not going anywhere. Deja vu. True to form, the mule is being obstinate about being pushed. Since this happened in front of the garage, my good pickup is now blocked in.

I moved the blocks on the back of the other pickup and disposed of the fox. Without the trailer.

By the time I got back the red and white pickup started. Thank goodness for spares.

You were the sunshine, baby, whenever you smiled
But I call you Stormy today
All of a sudden that ole rain’s fallin’ down
And my world is cloudy and gray
You’ve gone away
Oh Stormy, oh Stormy
Bring back that sunny day

Yesterday’s love was like a warm summer breeze
But, like the weather you changed
Now things are dreary, baby
And it’s windy and cold
And I stand alone in the rain
Callin’ your name
Oh Stormy, oh Stormy
Bring back that sunny day

Oh Stormy, oh Stormy
Bring back that sunny day

Bring back that sunny day

Oh Stormy,

Oh Stormy. . .

(Perry “Buddy” C. Buien and James R. Cobb)

This really bothered me at breakfast.

Apostrophes (and missing ones) apparently catch David’s eye as well.

The Apostrophe Protection Society

The other night I was enjoying some chicken and fresh mountain air outside of Red Lodge. I heard a noise and looked for its source. The willows were rustling, but I didn’t see anything. Realizing how high the movement was, I hustled Ty to the Element.

Hustling Ty means picking him up, pushing, and hoping for the best. By some miracle he didn’t bark.

Thank goodness.