I absolutely, positively, cannot think of a thing to write. My world is filled with barking and howling dogs. And has been since 3:00 this afternoon.

The neighbors have evidently, accidentally, left their doodle outside. I say accidentally because this has never happened before. Maybe he let himself out and now he can’t get back, like some sort of wormhole. I don’t know, all I know is he’s been barking since three o’clock.

It is now 9:30.

That is a LOT of barking. He is tireless. And when he really gets to feeling sorry for himself, he gets to howling. At which time, Chester gets empathetic and pitches in. Several dogs in the neighborhood beyond also accompany them. It’s truly a cacophony and I’m about to pull my eyebrows out, one by one.

Yes, I could text my neighbor and make sure everything is ok. But I don’t want to worry them if they can’t get home, or can’t send somebody to check. And I don’t know how to put it nicely, “please come home and shut your dog up, he’s driving us all crazy”. I’m not known for my warm bedside manner. Because I feel certain Chester barks when I’m gone. Surely not nonstop like this, but really, who’s to say? And I don’t have a key, so no, I can’t go put him up myself.

Lalalalala…..my aunt just text me to see what all the commotion is. She must have just gotten home or has had every television in the house blaring, one. Poor Chester has worked himself into a dither. I just keep telling him Ace is being dramatic and I better not ever hear of him acting like this.

Full moon tomorrow night, known as the Worm Moon. I looked it up, because it looks full tonight. But it ain’t. And it’s not called the worm moon on account of the earthworms, either. It’s because of the beetle larvae (gag 🤢) that come out of the tree bark this time of year. Named by the Native Americans and was adapted in the 1760’s to our tongue by Jonathan Carver.

I like moons, and I like worms, but I do not like larvae.

I had an aunt who was terrified of worms. It was kinda funny, until I realized that I wasn’t any better, being scared of snakes. Of course snakes are much bigger and toothier…

I ain’t gonna write no more about slitheries because I don’t wanna dream about them.

He’s still barking. Chess is still whining. He’s gonna give himself heartburn if he keeps it up. Gonna be a long night if they’re not coming home. I would think he would’ve run out of steam by now. And where is he getting water? They don’t leave their dogs out for extended periods like this. It’s all very odd.

I made a pork roast today in the crockpot. It was very delicious. A bone in Boston Butt. I diced an onion, poured a bottle of cider beer over it, peppered it real good, and let it cook all day. It nearly starved us to death. Then, when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I drained it, shredded it, and dumped a jar of Buc-cee’s pineapple mango habanero salsa over it. Sooooooo very delicious, if I do say so myself. And I do. I ate it on hard shell tacos. I didn’t even bother with sides. I may make some guac tomorrow. Or I might not. I might make some more cheater mashed potatoes. That’s way more likely.

Ok, I’m gonna go stuff cotton in my ears. I hope y’all have a peaceful night. I intend to, one way or another.

Love from Appalachia,

~Amy