I am always amazed to see what I have to type in to submit a comment these days. I don't mind word verification at all, but Blogger must see me coming a mile away and trot out the longest and most difficult codes just for me. Generally speaking, the secret word that I must enter is at least nineteen characters long. Not only that, but it is usually presented to me in the most indecipherable script imaginable. I try my best to decode it and type it but invariably make a mistake. Usually it is not a careless error but a genuine mistaking of the arcanely scripted letters. Once I submit my comment, the code for the next submission comes up: usually something as long and tricky as CAT; it is invariably presented in crisp, easy-to-read block capitals too. All I can say is that some people must lead much luckier lives than I.
Last night, however, the title of this blog came up in word verification: Farterdom! I kid you not, or at least not much. It was actually fartzrdm. The first four letters were definitely there, and the rest of it wasn't much a stretch for me. It was an appropriate word for my day because I was feeling somewhat down in the dumps over now being well into the second month of a poopy pants bad back. That's pretty well how I swear folks: poopy pants, flaming saints, ratsafratz — that sort of thing. But I'm getting better at using stronger language as I age. Damn it all!
What's a day without pictures? Here are two of our fallen comrades and one of a backyard frog who barely escaped the blades of the lawnmower.