In the spring, summer and fall, one's wheelchair is likely to track in on its wheels SLUGS. Yes, those slimy, little snails without shells. Or maybe it's slug embryos or slug eggs or slug makings.
All I know is that on several (bordering on numerous) occasions, I have gotten up in the morning and found slugs sliming up Claren's food bowl.
This morning, it was a little guy who I told I would let go free but it was too hard. So I washed him down the drain and ran the disposal after.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
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2008
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April
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- Horses!
- The ties that bind
- Tired and I didn't even give birth
- My name is Matt
- Bitterness takes a holiday
- I need a spandex suit
- No buttons for me
- Off-track fretting
- She ain't heavy, she's my service dog
- What a drag it is getting old
- Quick and fun wheelchair fact
- Stupid bikers
- Violated
- Take this job and love it
- Matt the athlete
- Maybe I'm a shaker, definitely not a mover
- What an eyeful
- My brother hogs the spotlight
- We survived
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