Phoebe's been in the shop for over three weeks. After a week in a duplex -- rented with hopeful optimism of her quick rejuvenation -- that ended after a night of post-fourth-of-July revelry I moved into Schvoogie; Michelle, thinks he looks like a house slipper.
Every evening I unbolt the passenger seat so I have room to stretch out. I'd remove it completely but can't figure out how to get it loose from the seatbelt.
"The High Road to Taos" -- as it's known -- is one of New Mexico's most lush. There're streams in many of the canyons and the mixed conifer forest combined with the afternoon "monsoons," make for a mushroom hunters delight.
Of course, it's camped to the hilt. And, unfortunately, there're cows and sheep.
The cowshit reeks and breeds flies. Psilocybin likes cowshit too, but that luck eluded.
Puff Ball
Boleta
Wood ears! I wish I was there.
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