Write about: misdirection.
Started weeding our badly neglected potatoes this morning. How rough is it? Well, I decided to just do the paths between every other row because I just need access to the plants from one side, not both.
And also because it would take until December to do all the rows.
I've been mucking around with my iPhone, trying to figure out how to take decent pictures with it. Here's one I took this morning of freshly picked Gala apples:
I took a great one of Max in the grocery store the other day, but it's really blurry. I shall have to try to capture that one again, as his expression was... well, you'll see. Hopefully.
Mine:
A languid, sultry wave of an arm, the wriggling of glittering fingers, an unexpected laugh. She knows all the tricks and does not hesitate to use them.
She does not need long sleeves to hide her secrets, no wigs or disguises to conceal her identity. Brazen, some might call it. She prefers confident.
It is a dangerous game. The penalties for losing are dire and not for the weak of heart. But she has never suffered from a frail disposition, nor does she concern herself with the possibility of capture. Perhaps that is the key to her success.
One of them, at least.
