In the night...the scream of the rabbit is terrible. But the scream of the owl which is not of pain and hopelessness and fear of being plucked out the world, but of the sheer rollicking glory of the death-bringer, is more terrible still.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Sunday Morning ;-)

More food. This morning we went down to the Pastry Shoppe mid-morning. The heathens tend to eat early during the church services. Lorna and I split an omelet. We continue our suffering lifestyle, but were lucky to get out before the Christians came down from Church Hill.

Lorna is making a winter jacket for Addy and Abby's short-haired dog Parker. Our pug Bud is only half his size, but is he doing his best to model the project during construction.

More bicycle content from the Lanesboro basement:  Lorna's Lanesboro cuiser - a vintage Georgena Terry outfitted with a high-rise stem, triple ring crankset and a Tubus Fly rack. 

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