but it involves a story that will play itself out tomorrow night, so I think I will save it...
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When I was walking on the beach this morning, I found a brass tag that had a plot number and cemetery name on it. It looks old. I pocketed it along with the beach glass and rocks I can't stop myself from picking up...
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The older charge decided today that he wants to "study nocturnal animals" and to that end, I let him set up his trap - a bowl of dry Cheerios and a bowl of water in the garden outside his window. He plans to sit up and wait for a raccoon to stroll by tonight. I expect to get a full report when I go to work tomorrow...
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Proof that my stupidity is not a recent thing: When I was young, my family used to regularly drive through Malibu Canyon on our way to the beach, and we would pass signs that said "Watch for falling rock". My older brother convinced my sister and I that "falling rock" was some renegade Indian who sat in the canyon waiting for overloaded station wagons to go by so he could collect scalps. And...he especially wanted a redheaded scalp...I used to try to crouch down anytime we went past one of those signs...
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That same brother (whom we affectionately call "the mind fucker") is now an industrial psychologist who works for the government. Be afraid, America, be very afraid...
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