Bandaids against raisin smuggling...

I spent a perfectly good afternoon procuring bandaids to complete my emergency medical kit. The last major trip where my medical kit played a starring role- Tahiti. Sof advised if I didn't wan't to bother wearing a bra, one could simply wear a four bandaids- 2 X's if you know what I mean. So I packed an impressive supply of bandaids as I am not keen on raisin smuggling. My poor feet unused to wearing flip-flops were so cut up that the band-aids served their medical purpose after all and I never had a chance to test out Sof's hypothesis. So I have become very serious about traveling with a horde of bandaids. I've always traveled with a serious medical kit since grad school. The one time I vowed to travel in a relaxed manner without the kit- visiting Suse in Tucson- I promptly fell on a hiking path and scraped my hand. I had to sop up the blood with a dirty twice used tissue. Nothing went gangrenous of course.

So back to Elephant pharmacy and the dreaded selection of bandaids. Complicated, no? I briefly contemplated getting SpongeBob SquarePants which Sof would have said "so cute so cute", but I wisely chose antiseptic ones and also the new fangled latex ones which boasts dressage for 7 days. Big J- the expert in such matters -dismissed those claims as she has proven in practice they peel off on the finger easily after frequent contact with water. She said liquid skin which polymerized on contact was strictly the way to go.

I fell asleep at midnight salivating over a tome on the history of pioneer cuisine, but I bolted up at one in the morning hearing a terrible sqawking. Coon or possum or cat threatening me livestock. I ran out with a broom. I had forgotten to board up the chickens; Pattrice was angrily chewing out the interloper. I had such a fright (C away in Mendocino, oh no what would he think if I let the chickens get eaten) that as I was running inside the chicken zone, Pattrice slipped past my legs. She promptly ran to the deck and tried to look inside the bedroom to see C, the chicken man, was inside. I had a terrible time convincing the ladies to go back in the coop and go to bed. Peanut bribery was of no avail as the chickens were freaked out as well. I read about the Healdsburg woman who left her kids in a car for 8 hours. Now I can't seem to go to sleep...