You’ve heard of Skater Boi? Well, here is Scooter Boi. This was a necessary test drive but I did not enjoy it. Fortunately (for him), he refrained from getting within a few feet of my personal space.

As annoying as this was, it was a Good Deed. It’s FlaMan’s scooter and lifeline to shopping (and the bar when it’s open🐽). It broke a while back and the GG schlepped it down here to troubleshoot it. After a few days of tinkering and some phone calls, he decided that the motor was dead. So. New motor, a few more days of tinkering, and it is ready for service back at FlaMan’s abode.

And ANOTHER Good Deed! Looking for pics for a niece. He FINALLY found some buried within some of The Commander’s stuff. I think he spent a few hours on this. I was happy. As much as I wanted to help, I didn’t really have time and my family photo archive is totally out of control at the moment.

In the process of sending scans of those pics, we all got into a Text Storm of memories of life with siblings and cousins back in the day. Me and my cousins fighting over the Pink Plate at the Old Cabin. My beach urchins fighting over the Pink Cup at Hoton Lake and later on, the Army Green Cup. Yes, really. And salami for breakfast at the moomincabin.

And I may be the only one who remembers when the older beach urchin had these fancy bottles with baby-hand-sized holes in the middle that she could get out of the refrigerator by herself. She would only use pink or white bottles, not yellow or blue. One afternoon the younger beach urchin NEEDED A NAP and the older one PITCHED A FIT because all there was was a blue bottle, the white and pink ones being “shitty and old” (her description of dirty). That woke up the younger one (not happy) and I went ballistic, left the older with her grandma and took the younger down to the beach. Where various Piedys waxed eloquently about how cute and happy and well-behaved my kids were, KNOWING NOTHING about the shit that had just gone down. I do miss those days.

Oh, and don’t look at Scooter Boi’s hair too closely. He has a hat on anyway. He claims he isn’t going to get it cut until he can SAFELY go INSIDE Knight’s for dinner. THAT IS OKAY WITH ME. I DON’T WANT HIM OUT AT THE BARBERSHOP. But, y’know, he could COMB IT, fer kee-reist. Haystack anyone? I shouldn’t talk because mine is as bad or worse.

He did a third Good Deed today but we’ll talk about that later.

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