#479: GEESE AND FLOWERS
On Monday, the Fiery One and I walked around the glorified slough that graces the middle of Cityville. Because of the Queen, we have geese, geese, and more geese, and so they are littered liberally over most of the park. Apparently, about fifty years ago, we were low on geese, and the Queen, being all nice to her far-flung subjects, gifted us with many pairs of them. Now they shit and procreate and hiss and beg for bread all over the bloody place.
There is supposedly something like four hundred pairs of them. I don't like them a whole lot.
And that's all I have to say about that.
And then we came upon some delightful flower-covered trees. The Fiery One was behind me talking to a friend of ours that we ran into, but because I have little in the way of social graces sometimes and as of late have become the Biggest Social Gimp Who Ever Attempted To Be Social Only To Prove Her Gimpitude, I kept my back to our friend and spent my time pushing my camera into the trees. I occasionally looked over at our friend and smiled in an effort to show that I was being friendly nonetheless, but I may have just looked crazy, because I nod at people when I'm nervous. I was probably doing my awesome imitation of a bobblehead again.
We walked for 5 km, and my calves still have knots in them, because I am prematurely turning into an old lady who takes pictures of geese and flowers. Next, I will be crocheting doilies, baking buns for Ladies' Aid banquets, and using my spit to wipe schmutz off people's faces.