Actually, the Yooperland Snowbillies might be more accurate. (Riffing off one of the many little conversational tidbits at Lazy Bob’s Willabee’s this morning.)

After a bit of storminess in the moomincabin driveway, we embarked upon the long and winding road that [eventually] led us to the crappy old Landfill door. We hit a bit of a bump on the Birch Point loop and the GG did a little mini freak out (and so did I). That’s only because we were pulling the rickety old Courtois Trailer (it does have new shoes) with a full load including five boxes of dishes. Otherwise, what the heck is a little bump? “I remember when Don, Jack, and I (or whichever set of brothers) got the Gumper’s car airborne!” Roight… I said, “You know, there are large stretches of the I75 SUV Speedway that are way bumpier than this.” And there were but I am a good packer and somehow we made it…

And so. Breakfast with the Mean Old Grunchie Old Grinchie at Lazy Bob’s Willabee’s in Brimley, then back down to Troll Land. Grand Blanc to snag the Ninja from Dogmomster’s garage and then on to Fabulous Ferndale to drop off probably 90% of the contents of the Courtois Trailer. Even though Lizard Breath intended from the beginning to live in California for five years or so and then return to The Great Lake State, I can’t help but wonder if The Commander had a hand in the timing of her move back. Because I was feeling overwhelmed by how to get rid of a lot of the everyday stuff that The Commander owned. And then here is a grandchild moving back across the country into an empty apartment. Leaving some of the larger items behind and needing various things.

So there we are, at our penultimate destination. We unloaded the trailer and Liz served us sandwiches on the patio in her woodsy little back yard. The shelf units that The Comm built herself (one of them in a woodworking class in *college*) look absolutely fantastic on the hardwood floors in Liz’s beauteous apartment. No, I didn’t take pictures. Well, actually I did but I’m not posting them. She’s just moving in and it is *her* apartment.

Anyway, we were sitting out there (it is REALLY hot today) and we kept hearing train whistles and the GG asked if those train whistles were irritating. Train whistles are almost never irritating to me and I don’t think Lizard feels that way either. What I was thinking about was… Lizard Breath’s apartment is something like 2.5 miles from the GG’s childhood home. There is a railway that goes through the vicinity of Royal Joke, Berkeley, and Ferndale. When the Twinz of Terror were small boys holy terrors, they had a great time climbing up the railroad trestle near their house with a bunch of eggs and lobbing them at cars going underneath. Problem? One day they got home from one of those escapades and their dad (the Gumper of airborne vee-hickle) was *waiting* for them in the driveway… Yes. They had egged their dad’s vee-hickle.

I am done. I may get in trouble for posting this. For a few reasons and from different people.

Good night,

Black Thumb Banana

Disclaimer: The Comm wants ALL of her grandchildren to adopt parts of her life. Liz is in an easy situation to adopt some of The Comm’s stuff at this point in time. That doesn’t mean that she will want to keep all of it forever. And there is plenty of stuff. I know. I have bubble-wrapped a crap-load of it in the last few days and there is [much] more to do.

Another disclaimer: the dern GG wears that dern shirt because, well, I don’t exactly know why except that it’s a *joke*. I know that it isn’t funny to everyone. But. I think we are both against religious *extremists*. We both know, like, and work with many people of many faiths and ethnic backgrounds. Including Islam. This t-shirt could just as easily depict an extreme Christian pastor. It is a dern joke and it is meant to highlight the folks in any religion who are intolerant. I am not religious but I am definitely tolerant of those who are. As long as they do not try to convert me. That’s where I get off… Okay? Okay. Live and let live. And don’t blow things up.

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