Hear ye

[Housemate]

The tray (a supplementary feeding station) flips over when he leans on it to eat.

[Chompsky]

Small weight.


Much obliged.

[Housemate]

In:


Out:

[Chompsky]

Benign but ulcerated lump removed from my right flank a few weeks ago; ↑ slept right through it. Surgical wound healing well. I don't really want to leave you with those images, so here's this instead.

[Housemate]

LARPing on Good Friday:

[Chompsky]

If Die Hard can become a Christmas tradition, I don't see why Kill Bill can't entertain us sinners on Easter.

A rabbit could've broken out easy.

[Housemate]

Let's watch an old video. (Sorry about the extraneous noise. Something to do with the camera, don't remember what its problem was.)

[Chompsky]

[Housemate]

Reposted for the poet's birthday

[Chompsky]

The little lives of earth and form,
Of finding food, and keeping warm,
Are not like ours, and yet
A kinship lingers nonetheless:
We hanker for the homeliness
Of den, and hole, and set.

And this identity we feel
- Perhaps not right, perhaps not real -
Will link us constantly;
I see the rock, the clay, the chalk,
The flattened grass, the swaying stalk,
And it is you I see.



(Dug up by Simon in Suffolk)