a story

A traveling circus was crossing the badlands of the old west when tragically, all on the same night, a giraffe, a lion, and a hippopotamus died. The roustabouts were too weary and dispirited to bury the huge corpses, so they just left them lying on the ground and moved on. The next day, a small tribe of indians veered off their normal path to see what had so many vultures interested. They were astounded at the strange animals and promptly skinned and ate them. The chief's wife took the lion hide for her bed. The medicine man's wife took the giraffe hide for her bed, and the wife of the best hunter in the tribe slept on the hide of the hippopotamus. In due time all the women gave birth to fine strong sons. In fact, the wife of the best hunter produced twins. Which just goes to show that the squaw of the hippopotamus is equal to the sons of the squaws of the other two hides.

Isn't that how you find the length of one leg of a right triangle? My geometrical memory is so frayed and thin.

How about some nice kitty pictures? This is Ben, madly chasing a ribbon. He looks like a ghost, doesn't he? I could make up stories about this all day long.

Pepper and Fly are much easier to photograph. They are staunchly refusing to acknowledge the presence of the other, but they do hold a pose nicely.