10-29-2017, 11:49 PM
Can still here foghorns in the new cave -- one of my favorite sounds in the world and the one that reminds me most of home.
Sat with the door open to the deck today, while unpacking the days haul of new items for domesticating said cave. Outside it was overcast, foggy, and I could hear hawks screeching at each other in the distance. Lovely.
Shopping for the cave was not. That was depressing. Not the items, just the act. One of The Ladz (my fellow coaches at M-Team) played chauffeur, so it was painless. Keeping busy has been keeping my mood artificially elevated.
Sat with the door open to the deck today, while unpacking the days haul of new items for domesticating said cave. Outside it was overcast, foggy, and I could hear hawks screeching at each other in the distance. Lovely.
Shopping for the cave was not. That was depressing. Not the items, just the act. One of The Ladz (my fellow coaches at M-Team) played chauffeur, so it was painless. Keeping busy has been keeping my mood artificially elevated.
In the Tudor Period, Fencing Masters were classified in the Vagrancy Laws along with Actors, Gypsys, Vagabonds, Sturdy Rogues, and the owners of performing bears.