Last week, I got bit by a miniature donkey. It hurt about the same as if one were to be bit by a full-sized donkey, at least I'm pretty sure. It was a love bite, and I don't hold a grudge, but my students were fascinated. Today when they walked in, I got asked how my donkey bite was doing. I'm pretty sure that when you've reached that level of conversation, it's family. After three years, we don't really hold back in my room. Sharing is caring.
I still have at least one moment every day where I want to save a story and tell my dad. I've been writing some of it down, but I feel like this is a good place to share, too. No offense, but this post wasn't for the living.
If, however, you can recommend a good dehydrator, I will take that into consideration. My dad used to dry fruit and I'm out. Yes, I could buy already dried fruit, but did you know that they add sugar? Bastards.
