DIBS!

 

“So what,” you ask, fundamentally fed up with all this stalling, “do you need such a whacking great tank for?

long aquarium with black sand and live plants, half full of water

Would you believe I just want a nice space to grow new plants?

 

To fulfill a promise made to itty bitty me.

 

Basically, it’s very expensive therapy.[1]

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!

Perfectly Reasonable

 

It’s not, as you’ve probably guessed, a baby shark.

 

For one thing, I’m not an idiot and I know that baby sharks grow into adult sharks[1] who deserve way more space than I’m prepared to provide.[2]

 

But leaving Offspring guessing about what I was plotting here while he nobly battles red tape and ignorance in support of… whatever it is we’re doing over there.  I’ve honestly forgotten.

clubhouse/lounge in Bagram hanger, made of "tactically acquired" pallets and bits of wood, covered with a tarp. Strung with Christmas lights.

So have they.

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!

My Withdrawal

 

I debated telling you about this.  It’s not my usual sort of thing at all.

 

But then I remembered that time I got the disastrous Botox injections that melted my face and made my migraines worse; specifically, I thought about all the people who commented on that post, or contacted me about it, and all the people whose heartbreaking search terms lead them to it every week.  I thought about that and I thought, “I wish someone had told me five years ago what I know now!”

 

The decision sort of made itself after that.

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!