interim report
pie not yet in the oven and I'm left holding a full bladder on the top floor. Dogs have not come howling just yet, but I cannot find the location of the last poo. Hopefully elsewhere not too farm from here but outside the door at least. A very shameful look a tail between the hind legs and downtrodden eyes. I would slink in a similar fashion I'd imagine if left with a bigger sentient moving creature with whom I am largely unfamiliar and cannot communicate without extending the neuroses into unwarranted territory. Well this pie is not baking itself.