Not even a whole dog, no

The important feature in this photograph is the stick.

It must be important to have me usurp the blog owner's inherent right to first post of the day.

There is construction going on in the neighbourhood park, which is to say a pipeline being laid.

Around the site there are various signs and surveyors' markers. Some of the sticks are made of pine. When said sticks are tossed about by dogs they become soft and oh yes, gentle reader, have spikey bits which can seemingly fire splinters up to 20 feet. They are porcupine sticks, yes.
For clarity and in reporting the facts: neither "throws" anything. Just so you know.

Anyway, being a good mom, I play with the dogs; we don't just go walking like most other people. I can tell you unequivocally that if held at just the right angle while putting one's weight forward to the right foot, whilst holding the tongue just so, tossing a soft-ish stick at a 30-degree angle fetches one a splinter under the skin which can actually puncture the surface and embed itself four layers down and out of reach of tweezers, sewing needles, thumb-tacks and the poking by fingers of the other hand.

I tell you this because? Well I tried to impart to my texting buddy what had happened and why she hadn't heard from me in a few days via cheap telephone method .... and my provider lost half the text message.

My message did leave an interesting half-thought, though. It left off at "I picked up". Now, the end of the real sentence was "a sliver the size of the iceberg that took the Titanic down" ~but~ did she think I had picked up a good book, a case of the heebie-jeebies, a sailor....
And frankly since she knows a little bit about my past, I thought it prudent to provide the photo and the accompanying explanation.

There now. We can all go on about our business.

And by the way, it still hurts like a bu... it still hurts to use those tiny buttons to send text messages. At least here I can turn the space-bar thumb sideways.

Happy freakin' Monday.