McH, Tank Boy and I spent much of the afternoon and early evening exploring some of the itsy, bitsy, teeny, tiny small towns on the outskirts of Radiator Springs.
I now know where Mater will go to die.
Anybody need a rusted out, seemingly abandoned pick up truck?
Big metal funnel contraption?
Really, they would be easy to tow home, what with the absence of engines and all (unless, of course, Tow Mater is already dead).
Holy heck. So, in spite of the fact that the schools in Radiator Springs supposedly both suck and blow, we really may have to start looking at real estate in the “city”.
The population here in Radiator Springs is about 17,000 (an extra zero over the little town with the gorgeous, big, cheap Victorian house that is already under contract). After cruising through the “‘burbs” we are now here in town where we found a decent Asian buffet for dinner, a Megalith Mart, a handful of recognizable restaurants (some of which don’t have a drive through) and a Lowe’s. And our room at the Super 8? Free wireless internet. So really, Radiator Springs = not all bad. Though the Kohls either closes really early in the evening or is just plain closed. Whatever. If we have time tomorrow I’m going to try to find the “mall.” I’ll let you know.
Okay, now for a very belated Phullabaloney Fill Friday (though it is still Friday):
Stacy asked if, “this adorable baby of mine will figure out that being awake from 10 pm to 3 am is not terribly conducive to a happy and healthy mama and thus happy and healthy baby, and if said learning will happen before mama loses her mind.”
Ahh . . . what mother among us has not asked that very same question at least 57 frazillion times?
Melissa asked, “Groucho and I wonder if Lazy Lucy will deign to walk before her 18th month birthday.” Groucho, it seems, needs to know when he should start formulating a quicker escape plan and Melissa, as the mom, well you know, she’s just curious.
Mr. Fill was happy to once again have predications to make this week. It gives his life purpose and justifies my compulsive plush groundhog shopping. Which reminds me, if I’m to get this gopher a wardrobe of any kind I need to do it soon. No rodent couture stores in the greater Radiator Springs area, and why pay shipping if you don’t have to?
Which now reminds me, have you noticed his absolute lack of incisors? Disturbing, really. I may have to take him to a cosmetic
seamstress dentist and get that fixed.
Anyway, for the pictorial evidence (blurry though it inexplicably is) of another puppies, rainbows and kittens week for the faithful followers of Phullabaloney Fill:
Once again, no shadow. So, Stacy, the delightful Delaney will soon be sleeping, and likely making those sweet, happy baby noises to the tune of Pachabel’s Canon in D whilst she peacefully slumbers. And Melissa, the Lovely Lucy will walk before her 18 month (and, thus of course, 18th) birthday, and be winning not only races but also contests for grace and agility. Really, watch it or she might enter beauty pageants.
Mr. Fill has spoken (and I have once again edited for appropriateness and grammar).
Long live the Baloney.
Which reminds me (for no apparent reason): as we were driving through the mechanical elephant graveyard and having to take detour after detour because, did I tell you? This area is not only God forsaken, but it also tends to flood? Anyway, as we were driving through this vast wasteland of farming and rust (not that I truly believe farm land is a waste because, duh, I like to eat) , McH said, “You are all going to hate me for this, aren’t you.”
Hmm. Long live the Fifth Amendment.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.