I feel like for some reason I was going to tell msbelle to EAT IT earlier, but I got distracted with work, and now I forget why. I guess it never hurts... Hey, msbelle: EAT IT.

Once several cats got buried by dry, chopped hay that was being blown into the barn. We found their mummified corpses half a year later.

HMOG. That's a little too reminiscent of the trauma I had watching Witness as a kid. That silo shit FREAKED ME OUT.

What was the silo thing in Witness? Someone get burried by silage?

My father would tell us stories of farmers who were suffocated in silos, because sometimes they get filled with... I dunno, some gas as a result of decomposition of the silage - enough to displace all the oxygen in the silo.

she would probably figure that I was the only person she knew with access to mummified cats.

One of my ex-roommates had a mummified dead cat in an ornate gilt frame around black velvet. Which, by itself, isn't so bad, but ... she called it Bob, put little dessicated mice in other gilt frames and hung them on the wall to keep Bob company, and would occasionally eye my cat in a speculative manner.

What was the silo thing in Witness? Someone get burried by silage?

Yes. (That was Witness, right?) The bad guy ended up trapped in the silo with the corn or whatever pouring down on him. I was apparently not old enough to have seen it in the theater like I did. I lost my shit. Not sure why, as I've never worried about suffocation before or since.

and would occasionally eye my cat in a speculative manner.

Huh.

Despite running rampant on the farm (and clambering all over the combines and tiller things- amazing we all still have our original limbs!) it was impressed on us that we Never Play in the Working Silos. I don't think any of us ever went inside one of those things. Now the abandoned one missing panels with the door removed, sure....

I miss the old barn. It came down in a freak microburst type storm that also took down the new equiptment shed meant to be its replacement. But oh, the hayloft and the light that came through the walls and the sound of rain on the tin roof and the smells.

And the scary vintage tractor that I accidentally started once.

I ate my super yummy burrito, so I think that wasmy EATing for the day.

A guy I grew up with died from suffocation via grain. He got sucked under a huge mass of grain while helping unload it from trucks into grain elevators.

Huh.

She also made "art" with roadkill, and refused to lable her containers of "art supplies" before she put them in the freezer.

Oh, her website is still up. Bob the dead cat: [link]

not right.

Very much not right.