Butterfly Wings

"What's that?"  I asked myself while detecting a slight tickle at the back of my throat.  I tilt my head in self-evaluation and administer tests of swallowing and open mouth breathing. "Guess it was nothing," I shrug and continue through the day ignoring any further signs.

Moustache Unplugged #25

hehehe...undetected, I take the opportunity to work on my letter...

Dear Mr. Self-Important,

Remember me?  After packing out a rock sling, a steel digging bar and a rake for nearly 1.5 miles on a rocky trail, you, from the comfort of the trail head's parking lot, rudely accosted me.

Stick with It

"Go over, get behind her and drive her down to join the group," the father told his daughter while pointing across a grassy ravine to a lone cow doing a poor job of trying to hide from the commotion.

"Okay!" said the excited 11 year old as she stomped on the Gator's gas pedal, still learning how to drive the 4 wheel drive machine that looks much like a golf cart on steroids.  She sped off, long blond hair flailing in the wind, as dad worried she would crash in a hidden washout.

Moustache Unplugged #24

hehehe...I'll seize the moment to work on my letter....

Dear CDOT,

H-O-L-Y      C-R-A-P!

I've kept quiet, biting my tongue while seething amongst 6 miles of parked cars on I-70 this summer, but now must release some pressure because your daftness is REALLY making my whiskers violently twitch.

Cleared

"Just cool your jets...you're doing this to yourself," stated my surgeon as I honestly admitted my Achilles was still not feeling 100%. "The MRI shows no tears or detachment, just inflammation from an angry tendon."

"Cool my jets?  Heck, there's only a sputtering candle flame! And screw that angry tendon, it's a wuss that is really interfering in my life," I replied.

So, with the wave of the computer mouse and a simple left click, the doctor's electronic signature cleared me to resume living life.