Wild Horses of Arizona

You know what family is? It's drilling a hole in the exterior wall of your house to string a cord with which to share your internet connection. It might not say that in the dictionary, but that doesn't make it any less true. Anyway, now that my trailer is conected to the world, I better get the word out. It's my duty to warn people. Not about drilling holes in your house, about not forgetting to temper enthusiasm with a dollop of caution.

For some reason, it's hard for me to believe that there are real live wild horses here. I mean, I already had to grapple with the fact that there's more trees than cactus- my mental image of Arizona the desert really clashed with the reality of it's biodiversity. (Don't even get me started on the mind boggling FREE HEALTH CARE.) So when I saw the horses there was no way I was going to miss the photo op. First I had to lay on the ground and roll under the barbed wire fence that borders the forest. This made me feel really cool, like some hardcore safari-ing professional. Or like an action hero. I took a few shots, but was way too far away, so I started creeping towards them. Luckily I was downwind. There were seven, and they all had their heads down as they foraged for lunch. Hunched in a crouch, I scurried from tree to tree, closer and closer. They were all beautiful, reds and buff and a black one that I decided was the alpha male. Which is funny, because it could have been a female at the bottom of the totem pole for all I know. Us humans anthropomorphize on a whim, 'kay? I also decided the light one was the head female.

I had gotten pretty close when she saw me. I froze by the pine that suddenly seemed like inadequate cover. Then she telepathically communicated to her partner my location, and then he too was staring at me. 'Cause I know the wind didn't change, and I didn't make a sound, right? It had to be telepathy. Suddenly the big black beauty took a few steps toward me. There was maybe 75 feet between us. I became aware of how gigantic these wild animals are. It was like they were growing right before my eyes. My heart pounded quicker. These are wild animals!! Was I too close to his herd? OMG- would he actually charge me to defend them? Could I dodge his charge? Grab a branch and swing up into the tree next to me? Would I be stuck there for hours? Should I grab a stick for defense? Adrenaline surged.

I picked none of the above. Instead I started backing up, maybe too quickly, and definitely stupidly, heck, it was pretty dumb to stalk GIGANTIC WILD ANIMALS in the first place. His eyes never left me. My eyes never left him. In fact, I almost tripped over a log because of it. I kept backing, and he didn't take any more steps toward me, though that didn't remove my heart from my throat. Finally, at about 200 feet I turned (my back on a gigantic wild animal) and all but ran back to the fence, dropped, and rolled under to safety. The horses went back to grazing. Another silly human successfully chased off. And another silly human plans to buy a telephoto lens. Amen.

Freak Snowstorm hits AZ

Its seventy five degrees out, not a cloud in the deep blue sky, and supposed to hit ninety tomorrow.

Four days ago it snowed.

I know the reaction to snow isn't supposed to be, "Woohoooooo how cool!!!!!!" But hey, I've never lived where it snowed, well, not since age three, and who can remember age three? Potterman and I ran out to disconnect all the hoses and bleed the irrigation pipes so they wouldn't freeze and crack. It was very exciting, battling the forces of nature for survival!! The sun came out about fifteen minutes later.

Since then it's been warm and almost summery. The smell of sun baked pine needles and the sounds of birds are what I've gained for the loss of traffic, maniacal cat targeting drivers, and the melodious whine of leaf blowers. You'll have to pardon me, it may be quite awhile before the shiny rubs off, if you know what I mean. I'm a bit taken by this place, to say the least. When I went hiking the other day, the loudest sound (and it startled me until I identified it) was the dog's leash brushing my leg.

Oh, the cats, by the way, are adjusting quite well and are already replacing Mom's dog as my hiking companions.

Also, I've been named "The Finder". Today I found a small bird's nest on the ground, complete with tiny bird skeleton. The nest is about 4 or 5 inches in diameter, and the tiny vertebrae are 1/16th of an inch. Sad, but also... pretty darn fascinating.

Yesterday I saw a hawk chasing a crow, and they were about the same size, but the crow was on the run. The hawk was doing barrel rolls and even flying UPSIDE DOWN as the crow strafed, dived and dodged. Several times they were actually grappling with their legs entangled and their claws striking at each other's body. All of this about forty feet off the ground. Just when I thought the hawk was gaining the upper hand, a second crow flew in to rescue it's brethren and together they chased the raptor far off into the distant horizon. Wow.

And I haven't even shared my wild horse adventure yet.

AZ Update

Well. I have been in Arizona for one week now. I love it. Except for one thing. I love the smell (that sounds kinda weird, huh). I love the view. I love that the word "traffic" has no meaning here. I love that my backyard consists of hundreds of square miles of state forest. Even the elevation is fine- and I have ALWAYS had pretty severe altitude sickness, but not this time (!). I don't even mind that the only place to buy beer is two miles away, well, if you're not down for bud or miller, yuck. I am in heaven.

Except.

Today the phone guy came out, HALLELUJAH INTERNET!! I AM FIENDING. Oh, what's that?
"Your phone line is working, you will have DSL within a month."

What.

WHAT????

CRY.

So, I'm on my Mom's internet connection right now... and I, apparently, am a snob. Because if it ain't DSL, it ain't internet. :(

Anyway, I HAVE been doing a lot of hiking, which is where I found the elk skeleton, complete with record breaking (well, almost) rack. I rule. I carried this thing about a third a mile, and MAN did it get heavy!!!! I also had the most gigantic grin on my face the whole, sweat dripping walk back. I haven't gotten altitude sickness, but I DO get winded right quick. Anywho, can you believe this find??!!??????????

Twelve points on the sucker! I found it down in a ravine, where I saw the antlers gleaming white. I thought at first it was just some bleached branches, because there's a lot of dead trees, fallen and standing, from the fire, and they bleach quick here. But when I investigated, I could not believe it. There was no way I was leaving that skull. And so, four days here, and I'm already a native. Heehee.

We staked out the foundation of my cabin today. As soon as I get the gol durn internet happenin, I will give y'all some updates! Okay, I COULD steal my mom's computer again soon. But I think that would just make her fiend instead of me. Well, the pace of life here is gloriously slow, so I guess I can just chill.

Eek.

Arrrrrrgh.

Wait, I mean...

Zen.

The Pillow Thief

My bed has already moved to Arizona, minus my mattress. Pheonix likes that I'm sleeping on the "floor", and shares my bed nightly. Isn't he so cuuuuuuute? I just love when he snuggles up under my chin. Wait, he's not snuggling. He's putting his feet in my face! So I scoot away. And then you know what he does? He stretches out a little more. Next thing I know I have a tiny little corner of pillow. Then, not even that!

I was just waking up this morning and I heard CL chuckling. My feet were off the end of the bed and I had completely surrendered my pillow to Pheonix. Good thing I have a back up. Isn't it great how I'm so well trained that it doesn't even cross my mind to boot him?
You know, he does this to his sister all the time. Say she finds herself a nice cozy box. I have seen him just lay down right on top of her! Then she mews and climbs out from under him, and now he has the cozy box. We must really love that furry punk. Man, and my back up pillow isn't nearly as nice as my main one. Maybe I should start out on the back up so that when he steals it I can switch to my good one. Muahahahaha. Yes, that's what I need, a PLOT to get my pillow back... from a cat....

Frugal Frannie's Friday Fun!

Wait. It IS friday, right? Who can tell anymore? I was all excited to share my frugal learnings, with my clever catchy title, and then I found out there already is frugal friday. I guess just because I didn't make it up, though, doesn't mean I can't join in the fun! Except I don't have anything for today. Oh! Here's my frugal motto:

Make do, do without.
Use it up, wear it out.

Shpiffy, eh? I live by it. Of course, that's mostly because I'm a hermit who dislikes going out into the world and shopping. The whole "make do" part is my middle name. Like breakfast this morning. I had half a green bell peeper and half of an orange one, leftovers from a previous meal. I pan seared 'em with a touch of oil- ok, fine, I fried them in butter. Not too much butter though. Then I threw in an egg and some cheddar cheese, scrambled it all up, and not only had breakfast but also was able to cancel my run to the grocery store. See, I'm real big on bread type things for breakfast. Bagels and cream cheese, or english muffins, or at least a tortilla to wrap around my experiments. But alas, there was none of the above in my cupboard. I survived though. Because there was coffee. I don't think "doing without" is allowed to apply to coffee.


Can you tell if Lilly likes catnip? This is the "use it up" part. It would be silly to pack a bag of catnip and move it to AZ with the dishes and furniture and clothes and stuff, don't you think? Especially if there's a state border inspection. Which there isn't, but can you imagine?
"Do you have any fruits or vegetables to declare? Animals? Contraband?"
"No, just my cats, and no."
"Do you mind if we have a look?"
"Not at all."
"What's this?" Holds up plastic bag of dried green plant matter. "Where'd you say you were from?"
"Ummm... Santa Cruz...."

I'm not packing any food, either, like the half bag of flour or the can of enchilada sauce in the back of the cupboard. That's not very frugal of me, is it. I AM taking my spices, though. Those suckers are expensive! Those, at least, are also clearly labeled: Oregano, for example. I suppose I could put the catnip in a spice jar, but then what if I accidentally added it to my spaghetti sauce. Anyway, it's hilarious watching Lilly and the others roll around in bliss. You really can't put a price on entertainment.

Spring Growth Trumps Fiber-optics

The daylight here in the armpit of hermit mountain is increasing as the spring season waxes. I can find a patch of sun somewhere in or near my yard for over a three hour block each day now. It doesn't stay in each spot long, and it's never bigger than 12 feet or so, but still, quite an improvement! When it hits the translucent flesh of newborn clematis leaves, the beauty is almost painful.

Just sitting quietly and admiring the vibrant green is like prayer. Maggie, on the other hand, prefers the plastic fiber optic Christmas tree. I woke up to her rustling around in it this morning. Not only was she making a cozy nest for herself, she was trying to eat the fake needles! She definitely needs to get out more.


Oh! I had a home invasion last night! Well, CL being out of town, I have been locking AND dead bolting the door at night. At 2 am I woke up. I'm not sure what exactly woke me. It was pitch black, and I could hear a cat eating.

Oh, sorry, I have to digress for a second here. I went to bed at one, so I hadn't been asleep long. The night before, I went to bed at 12:30, and I slept until 12:30 the next day! Twelve hours of sleep!! At first I kept telling myself I needed it. Eight years of getting up at 6 am, averaging six hours of sleep, a little catching up made sense. I was at the point where if I got 7 hours a night I felt like I was ahead of the game. But I'm on my second week of freedom now. How much catching up do I need? What if I just sleep 12 hours a day for the rest of my life??? There won't be a whole lot of time for living. Well, I only slept 9 and a half last night, so maybe my body will balance out the swinging between six and twelve hours. Okay, that's all.

My first thought as I sat up in bed was that there was a raccoon or skunk in the house. It wouldn't be the first time they came in through the cat window. Usually, though, I can tell by the loud scarfings and crunchings that it's not a cat. Wild critters are very sloppy, hurried eaters. What I was hearing was polite, quiet. By now my eyes had adjusted to the faint light of the (sad, forgotten, unused) alarm clock. I climbed to the foot of my mattress and leaned forward to peer around the corner. The bed has already made the trip to Arizona, so my mattress is on the floor. Well, I didn't see a thing, but BAM! CRASH KABLAM RATTLE SCRAMBLE BANG!!! Something large bolted from the kitchen, a mere six feet from where I crouched wide eyed and blind.

I was bummed my eyes hadn't adjusted enough to see more than a very big shape. I ran to the door, where the light switch is, and turned on the kitchen and porch light. I scoped the porch, but it was already gone. It couldn't have been a skunk or anything smaller- the shape I saw was huge! But to fit through the cat window, it couldn't have been bigger than a raccoon. Plus the agility needed to climb over the fish tank and armchair, well musta been a raccoon. the most polite one I ever heard eating, though. That's important, you know.

When I turned back towards my bed, I saw Maggie and Sebastian crouched side by side, huge eyes staring. It was pretty cute. I'm glad the raccoons haven't ever hurt my kitties. Pheonix came in then, tail floofed, and inspected the food dish. After a bit of sniffing, he decided it was safe to eat. I grabbed a flashlight, turned of the lights, and went back to bed. If the intruder came back, I wanted a good look at 'em.

Face of a Killer

Is this the face of a serial killer? Of course not! It's Maggie! She doesn't even go outside unless I'm there to hold her paw. In fact, the other day when we went for a walk, after several aborted hole digging attempts, she finally decided it was much safer to just pee next to me. Literally, about 5 inches from my shoe. Glad I could be of service. Or at least offer comfort in her time of need. Ahem. Where was I. Ah yes, the true face of a killer: her sister, Sebastian.


Last night sebastian had caught yet another mouse. And, as usual, I had to go rescue it. Not that I'm against her eating them- I read that wild game (giggle) is the most nutritious food a cat can get. And eating their catches is much better than killing purely for sport. I will refrain from any references to certain human practices here. Other than that. So if I catch any of my lil furballs in the act of eating what they catch I certainly don't try to stop them- besides, their dry food is thirty bucks a bag! Like I'm gonna be against a little wild grocery shopping on the side!

Okay, but if I see the tiny critter running for it's life, or worse, hear it squeak in terror, my own form of instinct takes over. It's really a terrible affliction. I've had it since I can remember. During all the mad packing I've been doing, I found my old journal from my teen years, and one entry from when I was sixteen was about seeing a dead baby possum on the side of the road. The fact that it upset me and I cried didn't surprise me. What DID was my account of wrapping the small body in some discarded newspaper and placing it far from the road under some bushes. I don't think I would do that today. I'd be sad, sure, but not like that. Maybe my affliction, technically known as BHS (bleeding heart syndrome) is mellowing with age.

I got some gloves and a flashlight ( it was about ten o'clock at night and we were still packing up the trailer) and went to intervene. The mouse was still quite lively, far from the point of no return. All four cats were involved in the corralling. I stepped in the midst, and the mouse sought shelter between my feet. Which then freaked me out. It wouldn't be the first time a wild mouse RAN UP MY PANT LEG ( on the inside, no less). I stepped back, and the mouse ran up a maple tree! Better than my pants I guess.

Sebastian tried to follow it up, but the first branches were a good 12 feet up and she stopped before then. The mouse hurried out to the weakest twig tip and perched there, about 15 feet off the ground. I figured it would stay there, perhaps all night, but no, it ran back to the trunk and out to another branch tip. Then, giving up on any escape from up there, or waiting out the danger, it ran back down the trunk right into the waiting claws. Well, it tried to jump when there was about 5 feet left, away from Sebastian and Co, but Lilly snagged it with a leap and outstretched paw like she was trying out for baseball.

I managed to jump in and grab it, though. I always hesitate just for a second before I pick up the prey. I know they're going to bite me, that's what the gloves are for. But what if this time they bite through the gloves? Hasn't happened yet, and it didn't this time either. I get adrenaline, though, feeling how strong the pinch of the tiny jaws are. I'm surprised it isn't a better deterrent, actually. Then I went marching off into the forrest with the bail now posted and the prisoner to be released on his own recognizance.

Of course Pheonix followed me. Duh, when does he not? So that was a brilliant move on my part. I tossed the mouse (gently, of course!) and traded for a scooped up and complaining P. When I brought him back to the house he didn't go try to find it, so I was successful. I went in and opened a hard earned beer. Did I mention it was ten at night and I was still moving boxes and furniture? Seriously, I need to hire a bounty hunter for all the mice I post bail on that never pay me back. I'd make more of a killing than Sebastian! I suppose there would be some ethical problems with demanding money from freed prisoners who were taken into custody in the first place without cause, by my own cat.

Also, kind of hard to claim heroism when you walk outside ten minutes later and said cat now has crunched mouse skull sticking out of the side of her mouth, head angled for better grinding. Mmmmm, brains. I sense impending guilt over mentioning getting a deal on my grocery bill... but on the other hand, it's good to know Sebastian could make her own way in the world. Just as long as she's not getting her own place. If I can move in with my parents at 29, she can just skip living on her own and stay with me till she's old and gray. She better be reading this. Oh, and she can also wash her own dishes! Or at least scrape the left overs into the garbage, not leave them on the doormat!

Ah yes. Some people are born hermits. And some are born crazy eccentric cat lady hermits who expect their furry children to "listen to me when I'm talking to you!" I'm going to bed now.

Little Big Leaf Maple Leaves

Wow how wrong is that title? Haha but that's the common name for this tree and well... When they're all grown up their leaves are huge, anywhere from six to ten inches across. They look almost exactly like the canadian flag. Except more organic and less rigid. Hmmm also not bright red. Gosh, ya think? ANYway, there are several sprouting up in my yard and they are SO DANG cute!! Man, I just love new spring growth! That color of green is mind blowingly beautiful. Hey look, some are red!

Not canadian red though. (Is that an actual red? brick, crimson, ruby, canadian?) They turn green when they get bigger, like roses' baby leaves. In fact, my roses are indeed putting out new growth, too! AND my clematis, yay! I have these baby trees, well they're almost three years old now and maybe four feet tall, but they haven't done anything yet. We've had some 70 degree weather though so maybe the plants that are sprouting have been fooled and the trees that haven't know a last bite from old man winter is coming. Being three years old, they're a lot wiser then silly young seedlings. Or maybe they just like to sleep in. I certainly know a little something about that.
Heehee, on my last day at work everyone threw a potluck for me- actually no food went airborne- and I told Betty that I turned off my alarm clock that morning. For the last time EVER. Probably not ever, but she's a fellow night owl and I couldn't help teasing her. Okay, rubbing it in. I am so mean! "Yes," I told her, with tearful eyes and woeful voice, "I'll never see the sunrise again." Boy, I'm surprised she DIDN"T chuck some food at me.
Oh yeah, and you know how my cats have to inspect everything I'M inspecting? I was taking that first picture and Maggie tried to eat the little tree! See that tear in the left leaf? Maggie!
Oh and you know what else? My little brother is like ten feet tall and I call him my big little brother. So I guess sometimes these silly titles just fit.

P.S. I seem to leave things hanging sometimes and on my birthday my Dad asked me what was that "good news" my landlord had, so in case any one has been left sleepless by that unanswered question: the guy is coming over to work on the place to get it ready for a reappraisal. Yeah, how that is good news is beyond me. He's not doing any thing necessary, just cosmetic. Who wants the landlord hangin' around? Even if I wasn't a recluse (not to be confused with spider, I don't know, I just thought brown recluse when I typed that word) I still wouldn't want him here. Can't he wait 2 piddly weeks till we leave? And at nine in the morning tomorrow! Guess I won't be sleeping in either. Shhh. Nine is NOT sleeping in.
OMG and he's going to need an outlet for his power tools. Hey buddy! The electricity isn't included in the rent! We pay for it separately! You gonna reimburse me for what you use?? I don't care how minimal his usage is, the fact that every other comparable rental in the area INCLUDES utilities makes me a little grumpy. Also reminds me how glad I am that I won't have a "lord" much longer.
Digression! In a post script even!! A guy on my route and I were commiserating over being renters one time, and he said he felt like a serf on some noble's land. "They're called landLORDs for cryin' out loud," he said. "How wrong is that?"
"Yeah, I love some one else having power over how many cats, cars, or even how many PEOPLE I can have in my family. " I have had to assure many a future lord that I wasn't planning on having a family, and to me, that just seems kinda sick and wrong. What, only people who can afford a three quarter million dollar house in this area get to have kids?? And I have to agree to give up my reproductive rights to give you money for shelter? EEEEEK there's some of that pent up disgruntlement I mentioned. But it's almost over!!!!!! Two more weeks, two more weeks, la dee dah my finger's are in my ears and I'm humming so I can't heeeear you tra la la. Wait, who am I talking to now? Oh, yeah, Mr. Disgruntlement. Man, that guy always springs stuff on me when I'm not expecting it. Guess what Mr. D, I'm leaving you in California!!

Purty Flower

Went strolling about the forest yesterday, how spoiled is that? That was my third day unemployed. Only it doesn't FEEL like I'm unemployed, because to me that word implies that I'm not where I want to be. UN isn't what I feel. I feel FREE and positive and so dang HAPPY that I wonder why I didn't do this sooner. I guess I didn't have all the right circumstances before, but I also didn't have the courage to reach out before either.
It's funny how dead set every one is on the 40 hour work week being the only answer to life. All my EXco-workers had plenty of advice on how to pursue my next full time career asap. Even funnier, this one lady had been working a few extra hours the last couple weeks, and said she was feeling really tired. I asked her if she was working over 40 hours a week, because I can certainly sympathize with that! Except, she said, "oh, no, I haven't worked full time since the early nineties." Um, sounds SWEET. So wait, why are you suggesting that I can't do that? (Granted, I don't have a spouse who works full time, like her.)
Not to be all bitter. I just don't want to be a full timer at a job I dislike. Now, if I spent 40 hours a week gardening, or taking pictures, that would be great. And guess what? I'M GOING TO! HAHAHAHAHAHA! Yesterday I went grocery shopping (ooo, must remember I have no more income, frugal time) and I passed TWO of my ex coworkers driving. I waved and smiled, and they waved back, and man I about split my face I was grinning so hard. Wow, I sound so stuck up and bratty and spoiled. But I also feel like I earned this break. In fact, I think EVERYONE deserves a break. I think it's time for America to follow Europe's example and make 32 hours the official "full time". Or even less!
Part of it is cutting down on consumerism. The less stuff you buy, the less money you need to make to buy stuff. I am going to have to really put that in action, because my savings WILL run out. Until they do, though, I get to live happy. Free. The fact that I have savings to live on makes me feel a little more like I earned this. I spent those eight years in hell for a year in heaven. You know how anticipation is always worse than the thing you're dreading? Well, quitting my job turned out to be a hundred times better than I ever imagined. I never knew this degree of inner joy existed. And I'm only on day four. Now that I've got the insane delirious happiness down, I'm working on inner peace. Obviously I still have some pent up disgruntledness, which I'm sure is to be expected. And I want to allow myself to vent it without being too self critical (haha) because I think I have a right to those feelings. But I want the venting to be just that- something that, once aired out, will be gone, leaving fresh clean space behind.
I have a year, give or take, (and frugalness willing) to start a new life, a new outlook. YAY.

Playing Human part 2

It was warm inside, and she searched for the source. Tables and shelves of test tubes, syringes, GPS devices, jars of pills, ah, a little electric heater. That would explain the solar panels. Propane would be too dangerous in a lab setting. Besides all the mad scientist junk, there was a man peering into a microscope. Jeez, what a stereotype, she thought. He turned, though not right away, a priority she wouldn't have held. If someone walked into a room she made immediate note of it, regardless of current preoccupation. The scientist smiled, bursting his stereotyped bubble with a completely open grin shining out of his red beard. Scientists could smile, but weren't they supposed to be clean shaven with glasses?
"Ms. Johnson, this is Brian Quinn, Brian, Sarah Johnson, the spy the government sent us." For a moment she was shocked. How did he know? Then she realized he was just being catty. Most people thought that was reserved for women but apparently, despite their truce, he still felt like his toes were being stepped on.
"Just here to protect our investment," Vivian clarified, shaking Brian's hand, who'd stood. He was shorter than her, but his blue eyes seemed to meet her brown ones perfectly. She dropped his hand.
"Nice to meetcha. I'll be happy to answer any Q's yah got," he said, smiling the whole time.
It was hard not to smile back, and she did. "Thanks."
"Are you going to poke around in here for awhile?" Cohelan asked. "no touching," He amended.
"Yes." She was betting she could get more out of Brian with less work.
Cohelan must have thought otherwise. "Fine. When you're done, Brian will show you the rest." He left, and she set her bags down.
"Care for a drink?" Brian asked, holding out a flask.
"No thanks. I don't drink on the job."
"Hey, no problem," Mr. Never-ending smile said. "I don't drink enough to get sloppy, it's just the only way I seem to be able to stay warm. Well, there is another way," he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
She shook her head, changed the subject. "So, the serum's working?"
"Yeah, check it out", he motioned to the microscope, and she leaned over to peer in. "That's a sample white cell, from the Alpha male. We call him Edward." She nodded. She wasn't a biologist, but she knew the basics. A pipette pulled into her circle of vision. "I'm adding some bacteria," some nasty wiggly things oozed onto the slide from the thin glass tube. "Now watch."
The white cell, as was it's job, attacked the nearest nasty. It enveloped the whole thing, and then instead of breaking it down, it seemed to spit it out. The bacteria looked different, wounded maybe, but it still moved. It fled from it's captor back to it's gang. And then, quit obviously, it started attacking it's fellows, ripping cilia off left and right.
"What-" Vivian said. The white cell didn't even need to help the rogue, it just hovered in the background until, against the odds, the traitor bacteria annihilated it's fellows. "Now what?" Vivian unbent from the microscope.
"Now it'll hang out to defend until it dies." Brian grinned proudly.
"But I thought the project goal was intelligence enhancement. This is far more, and incredible at that. Even with the required years of testing, this could be a miracle drug." It was an amazing developemnt, one that hadn't been in any of the reports.
"That was, and is, the goal. This is some kind of accidental mutational side effect. You should see the progress we've made on purpose."
Well, penicillin had been an accident. "Got another sample?"