The 'skeeters are a little fierce this year. For all I know, the hospice next door has a pond or some shit. You can see one right on Lulu's forehead. I was forever telling her to hold still and then, as gently as I could, smacking the 'skeeter flat dead. Lulu was all 'WTF?' When I trundle out to the garden now I grab a handful of lavender and crush it up and spread it over vunerable body parts and it seems to help.
That's like hypnotizing chickens. Today, my television dies of natural causes. I've only been getting about 4 channels anyway, which at times means I'm in the position of actually watching Deal! Or No Deal! or The King of Queens, for God's sake. I went out with a guy long ago who would become hypnotized by my tv, which I always just had on as wallpaper. I think to some degree, that's pretty much what tv is, a big old chicken hypnotizer and there's nobody here but us chickens. I have plenty of DVDs to watch. For now, the show is outside, anyway.