I was doing yard work yesterday, and when I bent down to pick up a twig, I felt searing pain shoot across my lower back. Its nothing serious, but the doc put me on pain medication and ant-inflammatories for the next week. I'm also not allowed to do anything for the next two days aside from resting and shuffling about the house. Good thing I got the garden in last week.
Here's a better view of the Frothling's painting of a flower. I know its a parent's nature to praise a child's work, but for a six-year old, I think this is remarkably good. Mrs. Froth and I are going to have it professionally framed.
I cannot think of a more offensive and tasteless thing to do. This guy is making a living off of killing another human. I don't care if you think Zimmerman was justified or not, auctioning off the weapon that killed Trayvon Martin is disgusting. Well, I guess we'll find out how much a teenager's life is worth.
I went morel hunting over the weekend, and not only did I NOT find morels, I saw very few mushrooms at all. I found a few clumps of inky caps, and some tiny, tiny dryad saddles. I thought with the weather we've had, there would be mushrooms everywhere, but nope, very, very few.
These are the dryad saddles. Sorry about the focus, but you can see by comparison with my thumb how small they are. These mushrooms are usually the size of dinner plates this time of the year.
Seven more days of vacation. We'll try again later.