In October Curmudgeon Compound was attacked by zombies critters. I wrote a story describing my brave fight against the forces of darkness furry invaders and my massive victory minor success in defending the homeland.
Then, because I was busy doing particle physics research in the barn I was lazy, I failed to post it. Today, while cutting firewood meditating[1], a woodland creature perched on my woodpile and started bitching me out. Vocally expressed his distaste for me, my saw, my wood splitter, my truck, my hat, my dog, and my very existence. This reminded me of the epic battle of autumn. Stay tuned for the details…
A.C.
[1] Cutting firewood IS meditation dammit. Loud macho dangerous exhausting meditation! You expect me to sit on a rug smelling candles?