Cracking the Code

Scientists have cracked the code (or so they say) of dolphin speak.

There are some things that should remain a mystery, what dolphins say, what dogs think, and why women are the way we are.

With all the really important things scientists need to figure out, why are they spending probably billions of dollars on trying to figure out what dolphins squeaks and noises mean? What do we then do with that information? Why is it relevant?

I'd much rather see this money spent on medical research, unless the scientists figure the dolphins can tell us how to cure cancer!

Let's leave dolphin speak alone, keep at least one mystery alive.

Modesty Out the Window

"I'm just going to move the jacket off your shoulder."

The mammogram tech says as she's smashing my breast in an evil looking vice - it is supposed to be a thing of good, but no way is something that painful a good thing!

So, am I supposed to be embarrassed by my naked shoulder and not my bare boob? Any modesty is left in the car when getting a mammogram, "Scoot to your left, closer, hand here, relax." Hahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Relax? Sure. I wonder if the tech gets the same instructions when she is on my side of the machine?

Mammograms really aren't as painful as they once were; and I don't have to hold my breath as long either, and I've finally figured out how to not have to hold my breath on an exhale. I've counted the clicks emitting from the machine, and breathe accordingly.

Once a year, I do my due diligence and have my boobies smooshed, photographed, and examined. One would think they'd at least buy me a drink.

Sad and Alone

Clem, the peachick from last year, is sad and alone.

George, the peacock with a magnificent tail, was trapped, and eaten, probably by a coyote. Gertrude, Clem's mother, is, we hope, sitting on a nest of eggs. She showed up for food every day, late in the afternoon, would then disappear until the next meal time.

Clem, not used to being alone runs around the yard, back and forth between the Christmas trees searching for Mother. After a week of Gertrude coming for an evening meal, she stopped showing up for dinner. That means she is sitting on eggs, and should only be gone for about 2 weeks. One week has passed, and poor, poor Clem, is still anxiously running around, cawing when he goes to bed, and is making everyone here at home miserable with his miserableness.

This week can not go quickly enough, and I look forward to seeing Gertrude with some chicks soon. Clem, I'm sure will be even happier than I will be, and by this time next week, I hope to have some good news.