Just after it turns south, there's a trunk about thigh-high across the bed. So we turned out to go around it and...
The phone rang. My one boss at work was cutting something this morning (we run a skeleton crew on Saturday because our biggest customer likes to be a big pain) and the machine wouldn't reset. We finally found out that she had leaned on one of the e-stops and didn't know you had to turn the knob in the direction the arrows indicate UNTIL the button popped up.
All's well that ends well, and we worked our way south back to the trail.
|One of the features of that part of the woods- a "name" tree.|
|Cardinals along the back trail.|
|This is what Scrappy expects me to cross in new shoes.|
|Oh, come on, dad!|
Eventually I cross both safely and dryly. By this time, I'm figuring the deer have crossed the thin patch of woods on the south side of the creek and are likely in the yard of the old folks apartments.
|Rock under water-just thought it was neat.|
Now, it may have been a race thing (as they were black), but it doesn't really matter what color you are. If you feel the need to tell little kids- outside- beside a field full of screaming kids AND adults-
to be quiet, YOU ARE AN ASSHOLE. I suggest either you rework your parenting abilities, or give up your "weekend warrior" position and let your ex's boyfriend raise them so they'll have a HAPPY childhood.
Thanks, I feel better now.
When we got back home, there was a party at the bark park.
Scrappy, however left in shame after I yelled at him for the 18th time for humping Bear (the big white dog lying down) and the dozenth time he looked at me like, "What'd I do?"