I do not make this up

One of the Readership comments often that he can not tell when I am just weaving a story and when things really happened.  This is my own fault.  I do embroider -- a recent email to the inner circle referred to Robots at the New Mill, when there are not really robots.  I believe that my embroidery is so spangly outrageous that it can not be real.  Only bedazzling.  For the record: unless it is filed under Fiction... I do not make it up. 

Embroider, disguise, omit.... yes.  The Mill -- not really a mill.    Dr. A -- really a Dr.  By his own admission, Bruce Wayne is not a super hero.  Just dreamy.  I am sorry if this makes it hard to follow.  My neighbors can help you with that.

Because this really happened.

I hesitate to write about the neighbors much -- thanks to the miracle of Facebook, and the Share This button at left, I can not longer tell who reads this material.  But then again, it did really happen.  Dog Walker, who lives in the Big Brother house, said this to me a few days ago:

He: [Housemate] told me what you did for work.  I thought you were some kind of FBI Agent.

"Some kind."  I'll tell you this: if I am going to be any kind of agent, it is Purdy.  In't it.

Me: {petting one of the dogs} I don't do anything right now, but I'll start a new job next week.  {straightening for direct eye contact - dogs and dog walkers both hate this} You thought I was a spy?

He:  {nuthin}

Me:  be careful out there.  {exit}

He is home all day, walks dogs every 20 minutes all around the neighborhood.  But I'm the spy.
nyuh-huh.
Notice how I didn't say I wasn't.