Well *ONE* sunny day.
Well it was *mostly* sunny so far.
I think I might have OD'd on vitamin D...
Sunny days are here again!
Well *ONE* sunny day. Well it was *mostly* sunny so far. I think I might have OD'd on vitamin D...
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A bit of history.
The time is WWII. Pearl Harbor has happened, the Empire is eyeing the Alaskan islands, A Japanese sub has sailed up the Columbia river and shelled Ft. Stephens, a Japanese bomber has set fire to the forests around Tillamook, and Japanese "jelly fish bombs" have killed a pastor and his family on a picnic trip into the Oregon forest. So in the face of these attacks what do the good farmers of Tillamook, Oregon think of? The COWS of course. The dairy cows that had grazed placidly on the green pastures of the Pacific Northwest were some of the finest, happiest, milk stock in the world. They produced cheese, cream, and sundry dairy products that kept more than one nation fat and happy and with the firebombings in the nearby forests (foiled only by the wet summer) they were in immediate danger. Clearly something needed to be done to safe guard this legacy but geography was a harsh reality. The very mountains that cradled the rich valleys were a barrier to the safe plains beyond them with only a few, narrow roads over them. So the farmers, determined to preserve their stock began hiking and walking, searching. They mapped out a route over logging roads, hunting tracks, and riverbeds over the Cascade mountains and to the safety of the dryer plains beyond. It would be a difficult and dangerous trek, complicated by the fact that the fat, happy cows of Tillamook had never walked further than from their warm barns to their green pastures. Many would undoubtedly die but they calculated that enough would survive to preserve the bloodlines and continue the industry. Fortunately the feared attacks never materialized. Wet summers prevented the firebombing runs from doing much damage and the jellyfish bombs malfunctioned and drooped into the fathomless depths of the Pacific. The languid cows never had to leave their barns. But somewhere in the ruddy red barns of Tillamoook, in a drawer with rusty nails and duct tape, sits a hand drawn map that winds over mountains from the deepest ocean to the dry plains beyond. The map that would save the cows. Yes, this is honest to goodness REAL Oregon history. For more information visit the Tillamook Air Museum. This is the rough template for the "Dying Embers" Tee-Shirts I ordered for the upcoming convention.
They have been shipped and should be here by Thursday! or Friday, or Monday... Ah well. Weeks in advance so it's all good. Yay, for shipping. Yeah, a missing power cord, a new job, a glitch with getting a new windshield, and go buy my book.
Also socializing is hard and people would be much nicer if they were books. So what if what makes humans weird is our brutality. Not in the bad sense but when we see a threat we END IT.
Alien: "Why did you shoot that animal?!" Human: "Because it had six inch fangs, forward facing eyes, and was CHARGING AT US!" Alien: "What? Why? How does that justify killing it?" Human: "Look it wasn't sentient right?" Alien: "Well no....but-" Human: "Look, I'm not getting eaten so the geeks can study a large predator!" Then the aliens get to Earth and see the wildlife and read the stats and are O_O. Alien: "Friend Human, it says here there three humans were killed by deer in your tribal group alone. What time frame is this over?" Human: "Oh yeah, sad about that, that was this year. It was over average because of this family in a station wagon." Alien: "...you have to note your deaths from dangerous wild animals in terms of incidences per year?" Human: "Yeah, but hey, deer aren't really dangerous animals. I mean that was an accident." Aliens: "So there are animals that kill humans deliberately?" Human: "Well the biggest issue is mosquitoes and I wouldn't call that deliberate. But yeah, lions and tigers and bears and all that." Alien: "I think I need to update the human psychological profile." Human: "Whatever Friend Undulate, I gotta get going." Alien: "Ah yes, you are off to a recreational event. What was it?" Human: "The rodeo." That word I was looking for for months? That word that describes that particular feeling?
It was pathos. Yea! Adulting
Me: "I am a fully functional adult who is in tune with my body and aware of my nutritional requirements. I am fully aware that that last bite of steak fully satisfied my need for protein and any more biomatter of any sort will push me over the edge from plesantly full to uncomfortably stuffed. The best course of action is obviously to put the rest of the meal in storage until I am hungry again. Also Me: *Takes another bite.* I know, I know, I swear I know how social media works.
But when my main e-mail account informs me that people are following me it does make the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. G-mail: "Hey! 14 People are following you!" Me: "What? Did you inform the police?" G-mail: "No, no, no! This a good thing. The loves! Fourteen people are really interested in what you are doing! Me: "...so is what you are saying is that this is a government thing? Is that it? Did I attract the attention of a dozen CIA agents?" G-mail:: "No, these are fans who like what you do and want to see more." Me: "..." Me: "..." Me: "Okay...that sounds fake...but okay." G-mail: *sighs* "It's going to be one of those accounts isn't it?" |
![]() AuthorBetty Adams is an up and coming author with a bent for science and Sci-fi. Archives
January 2025
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