Let’s leave testosterone and oestrogen out of this discussion, shall we?

There are ticks all over the yard.

They’s even a’crawlin’ across my new storage shed, afore I finished a’buildin’ the thing, too!

I’m a’gonna step away from fancy talk for a moment and get down to business.

Smellin’ the wind and tastin’ the rain earlier today, I was.

Nothin’ like a May flower rain shower to give this ol’ pilgrim a sense of what’s a’gonna happen next.

Seen a June bug crawlin’ on the driveway.

It’s another sign I reckon is a’tellin’ me what’s a’gonna happen next.

Thing is, I don’t rightly know if’n I otter tell you’ns.

A suburbanised country boy who’s a’fixin’ to tell you sump’n important to you but not to him.

Don’t feel right.

Don’t seem right.

Should I just keep muh big trap shut and let it happen anyway, you not really able to do much about it no hows?

It’s a modern feudal society, they tell me, but I don’t know what that means, do you?

I’m a Traveler, feedin’ off the land.  Watchin’ out for feller predators, I am.

There’s a sucker fish born every minute.

You want I should fix your roof or slap a coat of asphalt on your concrete driveway, gettin’ paid up front, of course?

I can charge it to your credit card so I ain’t the only one a’preyin’ on your financial predicaments.

I don’t barter none.  Cash or credit.

Meantime, there’s sump’n acrid on the wind, a cool breeze blowin’ in.

Ya know what that means, don’t ya?

Muh mindreader is here.  We’s a’gonna tell you’ns who’s been a’cheatin’ on whom.

A fancy set of wheels and shiny baubles on your fingers, wrists and neck are signs you been barterin’ for sump’n I reckon is worth tellin’ the world about, don’t you?

After all, there’s more in a pot of beans than water-soaked seeds!

Time to read some crawdad shells and see what this blackberry winter’s a’predictin’.

My skin’s a’crawlin’ – them tick bites’ a’itchin’ like nobody’s business.  Someone’s in trouble, that’s fer sure.