Cold, locks, moon

It's cold now, it'll be warm later, and the pregnant cows on East Slope will just have to wait for their water until the pipe thaws. I thought about bringing them water in a bucket and my back said, "no." I try to listen to my body, considering that it's been me for some time and will be me for some more time. So far, so good, although I've got back issues. I don't know anyone who doesn't. Young whippersnappers, of course, are still creating their back issues, but they'll catch up, I'm sure. Young whippersnappers usually do. At least I'm not pregnant, nor a cow.

I did a deed yesterday, or a series of deeds, which will result in the rifle cabinet conforming to policy. That darned rifle cabinet has a darned rifle in it (for putting down bovines), and neither Palin nor I care much about it, but other people do, so shuckydarn, I walked around and talked to old farts and now the rifle cabinet can only be opened with a determined person with a crowbar or two other determined people with keys to two locks -- that is, it takes the two of them to unlock it. You'd be surprised how much trouble can be caused by shouting in the dining hall, especially when those who shout can also write O&I papers. But, for all of you who were alarmed by the thought of our butcher having sole access to the rifle, well, now co doesn't. You may sleep in your beds now without fear.

I like sleep. I've been sleeping quite well, despite the moon being brighter than ever, according to my mom and Kyle, who I believe. Some people see a man in the moon. Some people see their future. I'm in the rabbit club, myself. Somehow, don't remember how, I heard there's a rabbit in the moon, maybe jumping over a bush. Sure enough, I can always find the rabbit. I've never really understood the man in the moon.

Okeydokey artichokey,
much love,
Kelpie