I Spent Mother's Day Conjugating the Verb "to Break"

My old boots are broken.

I am breaking in new boots.

The zipper on my safety vest broke.

Blister will break soon.

Owie on right foot bunion has broken.

Pay attention ladies. This is what happens to your feet when you wear pointy-toed high heels and walk all over tarnation when you're young and have inherited the tendency to bunions from your mother. This is what happens when you're breaking in new boots.

Yes that big toe with the nasty-looking bunion on the joint and wretched callus on the side is trying to switch places with the little toe, pushing the second toe out of its way and rubbing the nail off the nail bed in the process. Yes, that second toe is trying to ride piggy-back on the third toe.

I broke the hundred bag count so far--the one on the left.

Why, I thought while cleaning the pull out near the Hope cutoff, would anyone come this far to dump their old plants over the side of the hill? Yet, there they were--plastic bags full of rotting vegetation and dead stalks with exposed root balls. I cleaned up the non-organic matter before thinking I should have taken a photo of the mess, so I took this shot from above afterwards:



Then I noticed a green plant in the debris, in the lower right corner. Looked a bit like a chrysanthemum plant, so I grabbed it with my grab stick and looked at it more closely. No, I thought, couldn't be. I needed a second opinion on this. So I took it with me and got another opinion.

Busted. Cannabis Sativa.