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The indignity of having Hooman comb shedding winter fur off.. and cutting a few matted licks off too.

Not for Imperial Floofness!

We have an abundance of eggs right now with the chickens laying bunches. MIL knows people at assisted living on a budget. Sooooo, 6 dozen eggs out of my fridge onto helping those with limited income. I hadn't thought of that before but that's an easy win to help someone.

It's Friday. It's been a week.

Extra spicy Jamaican ginger beer and whiskey.

On Wednesday I got coso to talk about my nuts, Thursday was my booty. Both those days were stone cold sober. Soooo...... We'll see what tonight's shenanigans are 😘
Cheers coso.

The Sisseton Wahpeton Oyate has joined four other tribes in indefinitely banning South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem until she apologizes for recent remarks.

The governor is now banned from accessing nearly 17 percent of land within South Dakota β€” five of the nine reservations in the state.

ictnews.org/news/kristi-noem-b

I sleep
Sleep through the morning song
Sleep through the chorus of the
New Day.
Drunk on the dreams
That filled me.
Morning slips beneath the window
And slides into the bed
Beside me
Calms the thrum
Settles the beat of the drum
Still pounding
The stamping beat
In my head
In my head
In my heart
And breaths into me
A new day
A new day
Has been spun
And woven
Laid bare before me
Waiting for me
Waiting
Waiting for me to rise
A new day

And the light rises
Quietly on the whispers
Of crickets settling down,
And wings fluttering
For the morning song.
Embers glow from the fire
A lonely wisp rising
From ashes sighing
Sighing of the songs
And dreams
Of the night before
The last coal
Flaring to the beat
Of the silent drums
Day calls
I have come,
Here, here, here!
I am here!
And a single note
From the low branches
Chirps
The beginning of the
Morning song
The beginning of
Another day.

Beneath the moon the drum beats.
My heart, my heart, my heart
Follows the thump and bump
And my feet stamp.
Stamp in the night
Stamp in the night
The thrum and hum and crackle
Of the fire and the darkness.
While magic fills the air
Fills my lungs
And we breath the shimmer
And the dreams.
Wisps of smoke and hopes
Until the embers sigh
And the sun kisses the morning sky.
Blessings friends
Blessings to your days
The world has turned
Spin, soon away
Soon away, to another day.

Stop everything and make my grandmother's shortbread right now!!!!!

1 Β½ cups flour

Β½ tsp salt

Β½ cup corn starch

1 cup butter

Β½ cup sugar

Sift flour, salt, cornstarch together twice then work in sugar, then butter continually kneading and working until the dough is fine and smooth. Press in 9 inch square pan and bake at 350Β° for half to ΒΎ hours.

Bob’s taking advantage of all the pillows and getting lots of rest today after his teeth cleaning yesterday.

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Kurt Accidental Taco 🐲

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