COLD DARK ROOM

[Kristoff]

Me either! The boy called it his pig rifle ?. They are pretty common here for lots of people that hog hunt to get rid of the overpopulation issues..I consider them assault rifles... Either way, he wasn’t hunting and had no business having it in the vehicle with my daughter. I believe in giving credit where it’s due and my daughter had no business being out at that time of night and she was not where she was supposed to be... it’s going to be a hard lesson learned for her...even though, she s just a normal teenager who went to a party or have fun.... things went bad between some boys and she got shot while one was trying to pull that gun.. it was tucked in between the seat where she was sitting and when he pulled it out, he shot her. She’s trying to protect him because he was her friend and shot her by accident, but the fact is, he was drunk and was fixing to shoot somebody else on purpose.. SO HE NEEDS TO PAY. TO UNDERSTAND HE WAS WRONG... I heard no remorse in his voice when he tried to explain the accident... only fear that the other truth would come out. They tried to say that he was putting the gun in the back seat and it went off on its own. .

Preferred weapon of terrorists in southern Turkey. ? How horrible. Thank goodness it was “just” her shoulder. A huge virtual hug, Heather. You have a beautiful, strong girl. ❤️

 

[Cathie G]

I know I am a Brit, but I really cannot see why an AK47 is needed anywhere except for military use.

Yea why? Just be a good shot and take the meat home. Don't blow it apart. Pig hunting doesn't seem to be a good excuse for an assassin weapon carried around.

 

[Cathie G]

I think I'll just share a painting by Joe that I've kept for several years. It was hilariously funny when I finally related to it during my first year with Arrow.

 

[Tidgy's Dad]

She is nearly 70 ? Wow I want to look like that at nearly 70.

Well, she's 68 and a half.
It can actually be a bit of a problem sometimes.
People doubt the age on her passport, men chat her up (which she loves) and people think she's much younger, including me, and forget she's not quite as active and fit as she was, and a little more fragile. She doesn't get treated with the same respect that obviously old people sometimes do.
And I look older than her, though I'm thirteen years younger.

 

[Tidgy's Dad]

I’m figuring a few might be interested in this, but mostly @Tidgy's Dad . Hope it attached & u can view the document.

Yes, it worked.
Interesting, thank you.
I have a few fossils from the Chesapeake Bay, myself.

 

[Tidgy's Dad]

It's been a long time since he was mentioned, but seem like it was a one legged pirate. I don't remember his story though.

He's got lots of stories.
Most of them are fabrications.
Which ones are true, it's impossible to tell.............

 

[Tidgy's Dad]

I call Cathie's mission to make allusions to booze or drinking. @Tidgy's Dad

Correct.
+1.

 

[Tidgy's Dad]

Agent Cathie @Cathie G.
Your Mission is Terminated.

 

[KarenSoCal]

It's a long story about ducks. I just think they're nuts.

That's funny! I had the exact opposite problem!

Here's the story of my ducks.

Three different years, I raised a pair of ducklings when I was a kid. I was mama, and they would follow me everywhere. I built a chicken wire cage outside for them to sleep in. The cage had an old door laid on top to keep them in. Every evening my mom would stand on the back porch and watch and laugh hysterically as I would catch a duck, put it in the cage, catch the second one, and the first would escape while I'm getting the second one in...this was a nightly ritual for several weeks.

Each year, the pair would mature into adults and be extremely loyal to each other. My family has a summer place on the water in MD, and we would take the ducks there and set them free...time after time after time...they wouldn't go! They would follow me back to the house. Eventually they got the message and stayed on the water, but if I saw them and called, they would come running even two or three years later.

One time I spotted one swimming in circles. The wild ducks were picking on it, and its healthy brother was defending it.

I rowed my little boat to the bird, and he had gotten his leg caught in a muskrat trap that idiots would set along the shore. The leg was horribly mangled. So I took him home and Healthy Brother followed us, quacking all the way.

My parents, bless them, were sympathetic to my wailing and we took Broken Leg to the vet. Healthy Brother went too, since he jumped in the car. I carried Broken Leg in to the exam room, and Healthy Brother made circles on the floor under the exam table, quacking at the top of his lungs the entire time. It was actually embarrassing the racket he made.

The infection in the leg was awful. When "put to sleep" was mentioned, I went berserk, screaming and wailing. Remember, I was around 8 or 9.

So the vet said he would try to save him. We left Broken Leg, and dragged Healthy Brother home. No one slept that night.

Next day we go back to the vet. He had washed out Broken Leg's leg, set the bone, and put a cast on.

We took both ducks home, and every weekend we would bring them back to the summer place, where my job was to prevent Broken Leg from going into the water. I was kept running.

Eight weeks later my dad and I removed the cast...the leg had a big knot at the break site, but the duck was healthy and the leg was great. Then I had to get them to leave me again.

Those two ducks lived for at least 3 more years until I lost track of them. They never left each other's sides.

 

[Yvonne G]

Correct.
+1.

Yippee!!! Carol had to go to bed in order for me to get one!!! Yippee!

 

[Golden Greek Tortoise 567]

Correct.
+1.

I had absolutely no idea about Cathie’s mission, glad someone finally caught her. ? (Sorry Cathie ?)

 

[Yvonne G]

That's funny! I had the exact opposite problem!

Here's the story of my ducks.

Three different years, I raised a pair of ducklings when I was a kid. I was mama, and they would follow me everywhere. I built a chicken wire cage outside for them to sleep in. The cage had an old door laid on top to keep them in. Every evening my mom would stand on the back porch and watch and laugh hysterically as I would catch a duck, put it in the cage, catch the second one, and the first would escape while I'm getting the second one in...this was a nightly ritual for several weeks.

Each year, the pair would mature into adults and be extremely loyal to each other. My family has a summer place on the water in MD, and we would take the ducks there and set them free...time after time after time...they wouldn't go! They would follow me back to the house. Eventually they got the message and stayed on the water, but if I saw them and called, they would come running even two or three years later.

One time I spotted one swimming in circles. The wild ducks were picking on it, and its healthy brother was defending it.

I rowed my little boat to the bird, and he had gotten his leg caught in a muskrat trap that idiots would set along the shore. The leg was horribly mangled. So I took him home and Healthy Brother followed us, quacking all the way.

My parents, bless them, were sympathetic to my wailing and we took Broken Leg to the vet. Healthy Brother went too, since he jumped in the car. I carried Broken Leg in to the exam room, and Healthy Brother made circles on the floor under the exam table, quacking at the top of his lungs the entire time. It was actually embarrassing the racket he made.

The infection in the leg was awful. When "put to sleep" was mentioned, I went berserk, screaming and wailing. Remember, I was around 8 or 9.

So the vet said he would try to save him. We left Broken Leg, and dragged Healthy Brother home. No one slept that night.

Next day we go back to the vet. He had washed out Broken Leg's leg, set the bone, and put a cast on.

We took both ducks home, and every weekend we would bring them back to the summer place, where my job was to prevent Broken Leg from going into the water. I was kept running.

Eight weeks later my dad and I removed the cast...the leg had a big knot at the break site, but the duck was healthy and the leg was great. Then I had to get them to leave me again.

Those two ducks lived for at least 3 more years until I lost track of them. They never left each other's sides.

I love stories like this!

 

[Maro2Bear]

Yes, it worked.
Interesting, thank you.
I have a few fossils from the Chesapeake Bay, myself.

Paddled about these today. My fossilologist friend says these are all fossilized from the Choptank formation.

 

[Tidgy's Dad]

That's funny! I had the exact opposite problem!

Here's the story of my ducks.

Those two ducks lived for at least 3 more years until I lost track of them. They never left each other's sides.

What a lovely story!

 

[Golden Greek Tortoise 567]

That's funny! I had the exact opposite problem!

Here's the story of my ducks.

Three different years, I raised a pair of ducklings when I was a kid. I was mama, and they would follow me everywhere. I built a chicken wire cage outside for them to sleep in. The cage had an old door laid on top to keep them in. Every evening my mom would stand on the back porch and watch and laugh hysterically as I would catch a duck, put it in the cage, catch the second one, and the first would escape while I'm getting the second one in...this was a nightly ritual for several weeks.

Each year, the pair would mature into adults and be extremely loyal to each other. My family has a summer place on the water in MD, and we would take the ducks there and set them free...time after time after time...they wouldn't go! They would follow me back to the house. Eventually they got the message and stayed on the water, but if I saw them and called, they would come running even two or three years later.

One time I spotted one swimming in circles. The wild ducks were picking on it, and its healthy brother was defending it.

I rowed my little boat to the bird, and he had gotten his leg caught in a muskrat trap that idiots would set along the shore. The leg was horribly mangled. So I took him home and Healthy Brother followed us, quacking all the way.

My parents, bless them, were sympathetic to my wailing and we took Broken Leg to the vet. Healthy Brother went too, since he jumped in the car. I carried Broken Leg in to the exam room, and Healthy Brother made circles on the floor under the exam table, quacking at the top of his lungs the entire time. It was actually embarrassing the racket he made.

The infection in the leg was awful. When "put to sleep" was mentioned, I went berserk, screaming and wailing. Remember, I was around 8 or 9.

So the vet said he would try to save him. We left Broken Leg, and dragged Healthy Brother home. No one slept that night.

Next day we go back to the vet. He had washed out Broken Leg's leg, set the bone, and put a cast on.

We took both ducks home, and every weekend we would bring them back to the summer place, where my job was to prevent Broken Leg from going into the water. I was kept running.

Eight weeks later my dad and I removed the cast...the leg had a big knot at the break site, but the duck was healthy and the leg was great. Then I had to get them to leave me again.

Those two ducks lived for at least 3 more years until I lost track of them. They never left each other's sides.

That’s so sweet and absolutely beautiful.

 

[Tidgy's Dad]

Paddled about these today. My fossilologist friend says these are all fossilized from the Choptank formation.

View attachment 306394View attachment 306395View attachment 306396

Yes, it's just above the Calvert Formation, part of the Chesapeake Group. Miocene age.
Lots and lots of shells plus some shark's teeth, i should think.

 

[EllieMay]

Well, she's 68 and a half.
It can actually be a bit of a problem sometimes.
People doubt the age on her passport, men chat her up (which she loves) and people think she's much younger, including me, and forget she's not quite as active and fit as she was, and a little more fragile. She doesn't get treated with the same respect that obviously old people sometimes do.
And I look older than her, though I'm thirteen years younger.

I think that is awesome!

 

[Pastel Tortie]

Well, she's 68 and a half.
It can actually be a bit of a problem sometimes.
People doubt the age on her passport, men chat her up (which she loves) and people think she's much younger, including me, and forget she's not quite as active and fit as she was, and a little more fragile. She doesn't get treated with the same respect that obviously old people sometimes do.
And I look older than her, though I'm thirteen years younger.

She's very well preserved.

 

[EllieMay]

That's funny! I had the exact opposite problem!

Here's the story of my ducks.

Three different years, I raised a pair of ducklings when I was a kid. I was mama, and they would follow me everywhere. I built a chicken wire cage outside for them to sleep in. The cage had an old door laid on top to keep them in. Every evening my mom would stand on the back porch and watch and laugh hysterically as I would catch a duck, put it in the cage, catch the second one, and the first would escape while I'm getting the second one in...this was a nightly ritual for several weeks.

Each year, the pair would mature into adults and be extremely loyal to each other. My family has a summer place on the water in MD, and we would take the ducks there and set them free...time after time after time...they wouldn't go! They would follow me back to the house. Eventually they got the message and stayed on the water, but if I saw them and called, they would come running even two or three years later.

One time I spotted one swimming in circles. The wild ducks were picking on it, and its healthy brother was defending it.

I rowed my little boat to the bird, and he had gotten his leg caught in a muskrat trap that idiots would set along the shore. The leg was horribly mangled. So I took him home and Healthy Brother followed us, quacking all the way.

My parents, bless them, were sympathetic to my wailing and we took Broken Leg to the vet. Healthy Brother went too, since he jumped in the car. I carried Broken Leg in to the exam room, and Healthy Brother made circles on the floor under the exam table, quacking at the top of his lungs the entire time. It was actually embarrassing the racket he made.

The infection in the leg was awful. When "put to sleep" was mentioned, I went berserk, screaming and wailing. Remember, I was around 8 or 9.

So the vet said he would try to save him. We left Broken Leg, and dragged Healthy Brother home. No one slept that night.

Next day we go back to the vet. He had washed out Broken Leg's leg, set the bone, and put a cast on.

We took both ducks home, and every weekend we would bring them back to the summer place, where my job was to prevent Broken Leg from going into the water. I was kept running.

Eight weeks later my dad and I removed the cast...the leg had a big knot at the break site, but the duck was healthy and the leg was great. Then I had to get them to leave me again.

Those two ducks lived for at least 3 more years until I lost track of them. They never left each other's sides.

That’s one of the coolest stories I’ve read in a while
Thank you for sharing that!

 

[Tidgy's Dad]

She's very well preserved.

I have told her that I want her eyes pickled in a jar if she should snuff before i do.