Idling

The meeting on Tuesday with the TWPD dude has me in a tizzy. A full-on rattle of the "Delusions of Grandeur" cage? Let the international conservation summits begin. . . I gots my rally sign painted. My super cape is freshly starched. The displaced wildlife of the world have elected their champion. Light up the Grand Theater Marquee. The selfie-shots are ready.

Just breath. . . The isolation factor up here makes even a small pebble toss sound loud and important. Just breathe. . .

The official part of the talk only covered moving the property from an agricultural tax exemption to a conservation exemption. The semi-official part covered an herpetology survey he is (?)in charge of and figuring out how to accomodate the owls roosting in the big barn rather than simply evicting them, as is happening now every time humans enter the barn. The herpetology survey is already formulated. Plans are underway to begin setting bait for counting the snakes and lizards next week.

The completely unofficial part covered the lively population of cottontail rabbits up here and a friend/colleague of his who practices falconry and needs a place to run his birds. Bet my eyes got as big as saucers when the fellow mentioned that part. I get to meet the man next Tuesday. We see how she grows.

For now. . . Back to the primer coat on what I hope will become the grow room walls. The wood in there has been neglected and exposed for so long that it is drinking up the primer as fast as I can slop it. Brush up. Brush down. Brush left. Brush right. Keep it simple, sweetie.