There’s something that’s been on my mind all week and after considerable thought I think I need to share it with you, but you’d better sit down. I mean like, this isn’t good.
Valerie has already expressed some concern about this and I’m sure some of my other followers are worried as well. It’s about Bucks, of course, and our time here in these Swedish house, which is a bit spacey I must admit.
But its not that bad. We had some excellent salmon for dinner last night and it’s nice not to hear those damn airplanes flying over the house night and day. We lived directly under the SeaTac Airport flight path in Seattle. I enjoy the peace and quiet, but Bucks seems to be more depressed every day.
Why don’t you start learning Swedish, I tell him. “I don’t do Swedish,” he answers. The truth is he hasn’t been doing much of anything . . . just mopes around and complains. He threatens to run away again, like he did in when we lived in the States. He was lucky to get back in one peice after that encounter with the killer coyote. (Buckminster & Amber – 18)
Boots saved his tail that time, but there’s no Boot’s here.
Oh, here he comes, and I can see he’s in another one of his bad moods. I’d better stop for now.