Never talk to muffin trees!

Has been broiling here in Appalachia this last week. Brought the dogs in even when they wished to be out. Chickens seem ok. They’re under the shade of trees. Some digging out holes in their run to keep cool.

Last week our old girl got snakebit. We’d just spotted a copperhead the week prior -the first venomous snake we’d ever seen anywhere near our place. Relieved she bounced back quickly. Swelling down after a day. Glad to have had some leftover antibiotic that kept the nasty wound at the bite from getting worse.

Do make sure you’re on them long enough. I was inadequately treated and had complications for years and later developed a serious neuromuscular disorder. Recommend an infectious disease specialist. GP’s are out of their depth.

Have sometimes heard Bradbury accused of purple prose. I never minded his detailed imagery one bit. Especially in the pre-digital age before everyone insisted on everything being so damned concise.

Much the same for us. The toxic attitudes here in Appalachia are shocking. We’ve sure tried to give back and make ties, but authentic ones have been exceedingly rare. Something awful in the zeitgeist here now that makes it nigh impossible for folks to get along for the simplest tasks/clubs/gatherings.

A scale model of Devil’s Tower, Wyoming. It would mean something.

Kentucky Route Zero came to me at a shaky time in my life. Such that it was full of impactful moments. Maybe made more so by myself living in the often grim, beautiful and haunted place that is east Kentucky -and of course late stage capitalism.

Orchids to Dusk is another that inspires awe. Though it is entirely about looking for a nice place to die.

There’s a meatpacking plant in the closest little town to us out here in the Appalachian sticks. It stinks to high heavens from miles away. Nobody seems to work there long. They had some push to import laborers from eastern Europe and for a time had flyers posted around town in those languages. Then, after a while they all seemed to be gone.

You do have to admire that sort of commitment though.

Yes! Those channel knobs were so easily broken. I thought we were the only ones turning channels with pair of vice-grips clamped on the nub.

Still remember a print ad for The Grudge “Runs circles around The Ring!”.