Lassie and a very dead blue-green mammoth
I can depend on a couple of observances every year:
1. My friend David will send me something on Sept. 7 marking Buddy Holly's birthday, in honor of our shared birthplace of Lubbock. This is usually something touching, fresh and funny.
2. My friends John and Julianne will show up in South Dakota in July with a bag of birthday presents that will reduce everyone in the vicinity to utter speechlessness. This is usually something never seen before by mortal man. This year did not disappoint.
If any of you have any idea what the following is supposed to be, please advise. I will say that the cricket infestation in the building seems to have vanished since the...er...globular chihuahua-faced deer thing with deer angels on its shoulders came in. I still think I should have opened this underwater.
And these....are a pair. A matched pair. Someone committed this at least twice. With feathers. I have no other words.
In contrast, this is sort of OK, in the sense that it's something you might have bought for your grandmother in 1967 after a family trip to South Dakota. Because you just realized that you didn't have anything for her and you have 50 cents left...and Grandmother likes anything ceramic. Right?
Poor Grandmother.
But the Lassie book is a real prize. In the course of 249 pages, she and Ranger Corey find a frozen mammoth, fight off wolverines, fight off wolves, set government-Native American relations back 300 years and...no, I won't give away the ending. Maybe I'll post a few chapters over the summer.
Happy Monday. As John always says, I have the friends I deserve.
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