I made it on the bevel

Alright, so I feel like I haven't talked to you in a really long time. I hope you have not turned into a puddle. Puddles can't do much except make people all wet around the bottom of the pants, and nobody likes that. You can tell I am very excited to speak with you again. Unfortunately, this excitement may make this post of sub-par quality. But I am writing as fast as I can (which is probably only about 70 words per minute, but I have to reconsult Mavis Beacon for that one). But wait - is it longer than a minute? And have I typed 70 words? Could somebody count and tell me the result in the commments section? That would be appreciated. You would be more than a puddle then.

Let then me tell you what has been a going on. If you have been following my lucky links, you will have seen that The Rustic Poets were about to play a reunion show of sorts. Well, yes we played, and it was super fantastique! A nice hovel along the river all embowered with trees and white lights. The audience sat on the grass in amphitheatre fashion and there was a bonfire going. I will put pictures up some time. Then we have some nice hot chocolate and coffee at Jason's place. Next morning we go out to the tea house for waffles with Eisenhauer and the band. They set a new record for being late - was it an hour?! Then I head off with the family to Grand Forks where we stay in AmericInn and do a lot of fun (?) shopping. When we get back I head to Elwyn and Annette Eidse's where we play a lot of Boggle while eating sloppy joes and some berry mix smoothies.

After work during the week I have been outside quite a bit. Some writing on the grass in the sunset. Yesterday Jimi, Shane and I went hunting those white cabbage butterflies with sticks in reminiscence of old times. They make a funny ping when picked out of the air. There are so many, it can't be mean! I killed over a hundred. Shame on me! WE had surprise youth group, on Tuesday evening. Played baseball with a tennis ball at the rosenort park. We played with a backcatcher from the batting team, and, as the catcher, I accidentaly made our team win by dropping the ball when Scotty ran home. Yay or Boo! And what about today? Jim and I went fishing in the paddle boat on our pond and I caught a foot and a half long pike. Good on me. Except.... I couldn't get the hook out. At first this is funny. I tried to get Jimi to touch the fish. He is scared of fish. (I have been reading Faulkner's "AS I Lay Dying") My mother is a fish. But then I realized that the fish was quickly growing faint. Poor little hook so deep in the throat. It was panic mode. So we pedal back to shore and Jimi frantically runs up over the hill and returns in a few minutes with Shane's pliers. Fish saved!

But it gets windy, bags are blowing, and it turns cold.
The blazing sun is an hourglass on a black spider's back.