When Sloths Attack

Headed up to cottage country this past weekend. It involved guacamole, baby deer aka fawns, the bonding of family members, a bird orchestra and absorbing vodka during prime daylight hours. There wasn’t too much sun, but I got burnt anyway. The snake friend I made last year, Percy, was not around.

I do adore swimming. Part of the enjoyment is the fear that an unseen aquatic creature will drown or shred me. Sunday, while bobbing alone in the lake with overcast skies, imagination manifested a gargantuan sturgeon-like fish the size of an airplane to do the honours. It nonchalantly rose to the surface, crushed me with it’s fish gums, swallowed, and had all flesh digested and excreted by later in the evening.

Cottage also meant road trip, which meant extreme music prep. This mix was one of the audio blobs that eased us to the destination.