Bugs Bunny: "I speak softly, but I carry a big stick!"                                                                      

Article found in the morning edition of the acclaimed paper, The Trout Times:

The fly on the wall of the Trout girls' bedroom the night of April the 11th, would have witnessed quite a frolicsome sight indeed. Like other nights, it started out innocently, the three sisters lazily lounging around the floor and beds, pondering on what to do to fill an otherwise uneventful few hours. But as time went by, so came the proverbial "second wind." < drum roll, please, thank you >

Who began it, no one knows. Perhaps it was the inspiration from the melodious tunes coming from the old, miniature frightfully out-of-tune guitar that one sister was trying (keyword: trying) to be inspiring with, by playing whatever song and whatever words came to her otherwise uninspiring head. Or maybe, it was the jet-propelled towel that went hurling through the air, launched without warning and with great force by Sister the I at Sister the II, who was lounging oh so innocently and unawares on the floor under a pile of blankets. Or maybe neither, it could have been the witty sayings of that one, that came floating up from under the mountain of blankets, bringing uproarious laughter from all ends.

These, or countless other happenings it may have been. But sadly, the results shall forever go unrevealed, for the night is over, and the new day has begun, and the bedroom has returned to it’s former state of silence. But who knows, such evenings do not stay dormant long within the Sanctum of the Sisters. Who knows then, just when the next shrill peals of laughter and peculiar sounds will come floating out on the night breeze....

Report by Sister the III

To quote Katheryn's battle cry for today:

"IT'S CHEETO DAY!!"

So, happy Cheeto Day to one and all!

My uncle Roger is into racing. Not only is he just into racing, you can safely say racing is his "driving" passion. Last year alone he was a finalist in over eight races, and the trophies have begun to fill the halls of his home, boasting of his great achievements and skill. Through cunning, daring, and break-neck speeds, he has time and time again barely escaped injury, coming unscathed through the fumes and smoke, to the roar of the crowds! This he does all up and down the east coast, spreading his fame and renown to all corners. Consequently, this has elevated him to the position of Vice-president of the Virginia Racing Association, a lofty position indeed!

Now some may wonder, what type of vehicle does he race? What has propelled him to such great fame? The answer....you have all seen it and it’s kind. Some of you may have driven one yourself! For yes, it is.....the riding lawn-mower! Indeed, my Uncle Roger races riding lawn-mowers. These worthy steeds reach up to 60 mph. You laugh. You scoff. You deny it. You disbelieve! But I speak the truth. And one day you may even see him on the cover of Sports Illustrated, or perhaps even < gasp! >.......a Wheatie’s Box!!

Aaah....roses and lilacs: the two most heavenly smelling flowers ever sniffed.

A baked potato exploded in the oven today because alas, I forgot to punch holes in it. Poor innocent little potato, it must have been weak-willed and easily influenced. It gave into pressure.

All I have to say is......what a beautiful day!  

You know it's time to change the water in your fishbowl when, as you're walking by, you exclaim in abject horror and shock....

"WHERE DID HE GO??"

I saw it. The California quarter. Back when the quarters first started coming out, I figured out that the CA quarter would come out the same year I turned 18 and graduated. And now < gasp, thrill> I actually held it in my hand!! My mom gave it to me as a 2005 souvenir.

Another of my misadventures today.....this afternoon, like I have most every day this week, I went over to my neighbor's house to do her spring cleaning for her while she was gone. I let myself into the house, brought in her big black lab, Chance, and quickly commenced my housecleaning. It's a kinda creapy creaky dark old house, but once the shades are all open and I've got some music on, I'm alright.

Now, this dog Chance and I are pretty good friends, I play with him for as few minutes as possible, talk to him, etc, I'm no dog lover, but for a dog, Chance is ok. Well, I don't know if he was just having a bad day or what was going on in his canine brain, but when I walked out of one of the bedrooms into the hallway, I suddenly found myself confronted by a savagely barking, lunging, growling, and all-around extremely frightening mass of doghood. He got me cornered in the narrow hallway, my back up against the wall, unable to move in any direction without him lunging at me. And so there I was, nearly in hysterics and completly helpless, as he, angrily growling and barking, crouched in front of me. I've never seen an angry and about-to-attack dog, but he sure fit the bill as fare as I was concerned. And boy, was I concerned! Down right scared near to insanity was more like it!

I tried reasoning with him, but my words didn't penetrate his mood, and what was I to do? Even if I was to scream at the top of my voice, there was no one else around for quite some ways, and my walkie-talking (my link to home down the road) was back in the bedroom. And so in reality, I was stuck alone in a house defenseless with an angry and suddenly-gone-vicious dog who was about to attack me, frightening nearly into hysterics. Well, what to do but pray? Believe me, I was sure going at it!

Well, I don't know what happened, but he finally calmed down and regained his normal composer, and we went and played with his ball for awhile. It took me about an hour to calm down, and I nearly went home right away in tears, but he seemed to be ok....so I stayed. I don't know what was wrong with him, I don't know his moods well enough to tell, but all I know is that that was one of the most frightening experiences I've ever had in my entire life. But I'm ok now. I don't think that I want to go over there by myself again tho.