You know, it’s been interesting, these last few weeks. September, and the hardest two things to do were getting Buckie to join in the training, and Connie to do something else, ‘n so?
No need to get me wrong, here. It’s not because she’s a girl. I’ve been reading up on super-powered heroes in New Angels. You know, it’s not easy sifting for the true stories when the news has been so hostile to them. James, I’ve come to learn, helped, ‘n so? I guess he’d been sent to a couple to train his gift, I mean, theirs.
You know, you can’t tell who’ll win a fight just because of their sex.
It isn’t because Connie is a girl, you know. It’s because she’s five, ‘n so? So, what’s a fellow to do? Do the heavy stuff after her bedtime. You know, my investments have started paying off. Little classes on line, all sorts of things to watch and read and listen to that don’t ask a dime. And now she’s teaching me stuff. Go Bitcoin.
Well, the tenth came along and the Mexican seasoning in the family started getting ready for Mexico’s independence day. Sure, they held a revolution around about every fifty years or so just to mix things up, ‘n so?
New Angels has a host of little Mexican markets selling the best fruits and veggies, ‘n so? Connie didn’t like that she couldn’t have any sweets—doctors’ orders—and settled for tamales.
In case you want to know, Jubilant seems to have gone underground. Someone tried to sell some to me, today. I told him to get a life.
You know, six days to prepare festivities for thirty or so, and something will just have to wait.
Did you know tomatillos are related to henbane? Yeah, Connie taught me that. And then asked me what henbane is for. See, education, free of schools.