I'm leaving the old intro here, but adding this- it appears the doves have taken over my blog for their fiction. Just as well, I was doing a piss poor job of updating. They're doing much better.

This blog is infrequently updated, full of incorrect spellings, misused words, and general bad grammar. It started when I was trying to use google+ (which I've since given up on) and discovered there was no character limit for posts. If you've known me a long time, a lot of these stories will be old hat. If you plan to know me for a long time, you'll no doubt hear many of them in person. But, folks seemed to enjoy them, so here they are.

Sunday, September 13, 2015

The hundred and seventieth story

Once upon a time there was a whole nestful of young sparrows who decided they would rather be a hawk. They never flew but together, and would group together to form a sortof large bird shape. They looked nothing like a hawk, but still, no one messed with them.

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