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Between two distant trees a golden deer peered out at Sita.
The white spots of a fawn were replaced by brilliant gems.
The small antlers were dipped in silver with rings of gold encircling them.

"'Please, my husband, may I have this deer?" Sita begged.
"I will keep it as a pet."

Ramayana, eh? We'll take it in stride.

Got misled into a politicized group through Facebook. Old "friend"... one thing leading to another. (Not too friendly after all. Neither the groupies. Got disappeared.) Another, come to think of it, was a devotee of Majaraji. She was sweet and one of the first people I looked up when I got to Portland in 1973. We'd met in a bank. We stayed in her school bus.

Her husband, a mechanic, was also blissfully swept up. I was driving a 1967 VW 1600 sedan. #3 valve was running hot; compression test confirmed metallurgical occlusion. He referred me to John Muir and I got underway for to pull the engine and have the valves ground. Presumed it would take a day or so, delivering the heads to a machine shop on Thursday; planned on reinstallation Saturday. Uh-huh...

Muir has one, in the interim, check out the rest of the engine. Tolerances, play; wear and tear; I miked the piston/cylinder/rings. Out of specification. Muir said to (while the engine is obviously out) replace them. Took me a couple of paychecks. Got it done.

But I was living with a player and complainer who took exception to the engine sitting in the pantry. She was no good and, to my astonishment, I gave her much tolerance. She couldn't help herself as she was under the influence of a bad news bunch; very stupid people. Eventually, I moved on splendidly. Got it done.

After reassembly, I had a few friends over to help hoist the engine back in. We rented a winch and had no problems. It cranked up right away. Glorious. We had a party. She may have felt left out, but it was her own fault. I gave her every consideration. Lost forever, one might say - she was not, however, a believer. As as matter of fact, she said, "There is no God." Flummoxed me: not my problem. I showed her. Why, I cut my hair and got a job in a bank! Consequently, I met that friend.

Not exactly on the same wave length as the stupid idiots (with whom we initially stayed) she was captivated by, I looked the woman up. Thus we sojourned in the bus. No problem. Got a house rented after a while. With a pantry. We made blueberry pie and preserves from berries we picked in the Columbia Gorge. (Quite the spot.) Needed a wall papering too. In an instant, I put up a paisley sheet on the indicated walls. Yeah, get it done.

Well, we'll have to find a legitimate way to listen to these.