This is not a post, but a quick fly-by to say hi, and also bye, because I am leaving for vacation tonight, and if all goes well, there will be connectivity in the mountains, but things can happen. Like, NO connectivity. So if a little more than a week goes by and there’s no action from me anywhere on the internet, either there was no phone coverage (possible) or I died on the way to vacation (also, I suppose, possible.) If that happens, I’ll find a way to alert you. Ghost writing. Have Dad post something in crabby all-caps here, like “MY DAUGHTER IS DEAD, YOU FEMALE TRUCK DRIVERS!”
But most likely, I’ll get there, all will be well, the phone will work fine, and I’ll be able to bring you all on vacation with me. Which will be nice. Because the last time I went, a couple of years ago, it was very sad. I don’t like being all cut off from the world. Anything could happen and how the hell would I know? Dad brings me the local paper but it’s all spelled wrong and the biggest news in that thing is usually “a bulding feel ovre on Mane Strete” or “BIG TRECTOR PULE TOMERROW!”
(I’m exaggerating. But only a little.)
ALSO, I’m totally doing a Twitter poll right now. On the radio tonight, the announcer was having some contest, and some woman named Sylvia won it. (Well, I don’t know if that was her name. I remember things oddly sometimes.) And he was all, “Sylvia just got her ticket punched, and she’s off to Vegas to see the I Heart Radio event!” And first I was like, “doesn’t that mean she got whacked?” and then I was like, “wait, maybe it means she GOT HER TICKET PUNCHED, if you know what I mean, wink wink nudge nudge, I always get my euphemisms mixed up.” So then I just got very confused. And also giggly. Was poor Sylvia going to be shipped to Vegas on ice and propped up in the audience like Bernie? Or did she get lucky, and then ALSO got to see the concert? Or did she have to put out in ORDER to see the concert? Twitter tells me (well, the two people that replied to my very scientific poll) that it means death. (And then a third person said first she thought it was sex, then she thought maybe it was literal ticket-punching.) So a., I apparently am looking for love in all the wrong ticket-punching, and b., poor Sylvia. Poor, poor Sylvia. Dead dead dead.
SO (tangent, tangent, who’s got the tangent) most everything’s packed and ready to be piled in the car tomorrow. Dumbcat is not packed. I’ll let him be free-range Dumbcat for a bit longer. (I did clip his nails tonight. MAN, does he hate that. Whoo!)
Send me good driving mojo and don’t-let-it-be-too-hot mojo and have-all-the-fun-on-vacation mojo, please! I would like all of those things.
If all is well, you will see many photos of:
- Me meeting with Helper Mule! I’m sure this will be very exciting, after all the publicity I’ve given him.
- Things you find at camp, like taxidermied moose heads and racist clown pottery! (Neither of these are euphemisms. They are actual things that exist.)
- The groundhog who lives under the shop! (I don’t know if he’ll let me take his photo, but I’m hoping he does.)
- THE NEPHEW! Well, you probably won’t see many photos of him, because creepers, but be assured there will be photos. I just got the news I may well be allowed to babysit him for a FULL DAY next week! My mind is already racing with possibilities. How many books can we read? What can we play? Can we watch Finding Nemo? Will he love Dumbcat? Will he take a nap or say NO NO NO? Can I still make him giggle and giggle when I say long words like “fruition?” (Tonight he was playing Boggle. Well, he was “playing” Boggle. He would say, “what word is this?” and Mom would say, “That is boosk.” And he would say, “I MADE BOOSK!” and laugh and laugh. It tickled me to no end that he was getting such a kick out of a word game.)
- Dad and I having an adventure! (I still have no idea what we’re doing. I still suspect it’s eating food on a boat.)
- Mom and I having an adventure! (We’re going to see A Streetcar Named Desire. Please please please let it be more “streetcar” and less “desire.” Mom reacts badly to sex onstage. Or in life. Or in nature. Or in the abstract. Or in art. Or hinted at. Or, hell. AT ALL. Gulp. But we had a choice – that or Doubt. The minute I said, “It’s about the Catholic Church, and a nun who accuses a priest of child molest…” “NO NO NO!” said my very religious mother. So Tennessee Williams and his sexy Stanley Kowalski it is. Wish us luck.)
It is time for bed in Amy-land, because I have to get up early to do some more packing. You’d think I was moving house, the number of bags of crap I’ve packed. But how will I know what movie/television series/book/project I want unless I bring them ALL, I ask you?
Have a lovely few days, and I will do my level best to bring you up-to-the-minute reporting from the cool, green, quiet, piney mountains, where I will recharge my dead batteries and have the best of times. I hope the cool front they’re predicting happens for all of you because it has been the hottest and we all need a break. Until later, my little chickadees!