My mom and I were preparing a vegetable dish for the cookout when the Rodgers (our old neighbors and good friends) stopped by (except for one of the boys, who was elsewhere). We talked to them for a while, and they invited us to dinner at another friend's house tomorrow. Lucinda (who is one of the cooler grownups I know) was raving about my "Wings" poem (a few months ago, my mom showed her the Golem issue with some of my work in it), and she said that it made her cry. Holy cow. I didn't think it would affect anyone that much. She offered to be my agent (I don't know if that was serious or not...), and I gave her my email and web site addresses. Weehee, now I feel special!
Anyway, after everything was prepared and the Rodgers left, we went to the cookout. One of my neighbors made this phenomenal bean dip, so of course I had two little bowls of it. The kids found a dead chipmunk under a tree, so we buried it and had a little funeral. Of course, I was the only one brave enough to scoop it onto the shovel, so I did most of the undertaking. Our new neighbors have pet lizards, so we went to see them, and I held one. Pretty neat. Katie and Julia are sleeping in a tent in Julia's back yard, so the house should be nice and quiet tomorrow morning... except for perhaps Moccasin mewing and wreaking havoc. He's such a funny critter. A couple hours ago, he dragged an empty styrofoam ramen cup out of the trash can and was carrying it around. He's a reckless anarchist, but he's still young enough to get away with it. We're keeping him in the house for about 6 months, and he keeps trying to go outside and has even escaped a few times. We'll eventually let him out and let him be an indoor/outdoor cat like Belle, but right now he's so young and naive that he might dash out into the street and get hit by a car, so he'll have to stay in until he's older and wiser (and neutered - we don't want any neighbors bitching at us about our damn cat knocking up their precious Fluffy...). Right now he's purring on the back of my neck, getting tangled in my hair, and kneading my shoulder. He's adorable, but he's still vicious.
Well, now I feel the urge to go to bed. I hope my parents don't decide to wake me up for church tomorrow - they know I'm old enough to refuse, and I really only like going when there's lunch involved, but sometimes they feel the need to bring me along, even if I hate it. Oh well.
And Spammy, feel free to call whenever you wake up and want to get together (if you at least call before 4, I'd really appreciate it, since my parents are going to dinner at a friend's house, and they'll want to know if I'm going or not).