Today, I'm trying not to speak more than I have to, since I injured my tongue this past weekend, probably by biting it. I don't remember this; I never remember injuring myself. Sometimes I wonder if someone borrows my body while I'm sleeping, bashes around town in it, and returns it, bruised and aching.

Keeping quiet is more difficult than you might think. I stopped to deposit a paycheck, and the ATM was down, meaning I had to talk to a teller. Then, at the grocery store, I was greeted by the friendly security guard who always wants to pass the time of day. I nodded and smiled. Then the cashier, seeing I was buying a lot of produce, gushed about the home garden she's starting. I tried to stick to nonverbal responses as much as possible, or short phrases.

At home, it's easier, because The Gryphon is aware of my self-imposed restriction. I've been communicating through sounds and gestures, and sometimes writing on a pad. Una even cooperated on our walk, obeying the hand signals we've rehearsed along with her verbal commands.

I'm hoping that the respite will help my tongue to recover more quickly. It does feel less irritated than it had by this time of the day, any day this week. Who knows? Maybe my silence will lead to satori. Probably not, because I'm still writing my blog and listening to The Beatles.

As promised, here are some more pics from the trip to Central Pennsylvania. I'll let them speak for me.

Guard puppeh is faster than my focus mechanism.

A flowering bush, covered with a lacework of buds.

Close-up of flowers in a hanging pot

Beautiful red "helicopter" seeds. For red trees?

A sidewalk-chalk memorial to a beloved pet

A bush blooms with remembrance.

Future flowers

Telephone-pole band says, "Oh, noes! Rust!"

The Golden Arches, oasis of French fries

Una just says no to hydrants.

Just can't catch a break.

Moral:
Small dogs are great guard dogs, because they disarm you with laughter.