The entire Hillbilly family was home yesterday.
The boys are not exactly thrilled when Farmer H is not at work. That may be because they have an aversion to stacking cedar posts in preparation for hauling them to a farmers' market at 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday to see if anybody wants to buy them.
The selling attempt has not yet been made, but Farmer H is stocking up with fallen cedars. They're on the south ten, the land we bought adjacent to the Mansion grounds five or six years ago. The dude who owned it, or The LandStealer, as he is known around here, had dozed them over and left them. Now Farmer H is just getting around to beautifying his acreage, no doubt to turn his goats loose to eat it down to dirt.
The Pony escaped to his grandma's house for the day. She even drove out to get him, braving a broken hip while navigating Juno's Boneyard on the porch. The #1 son made a run for it two hours later, no doubt thinking that a driver's license is the best invention ever.
I finished the laundry, washed up some dishes, and tried to sleep off the beginnings of a cold. Unsuccessfully.
I'm writing this ahead of time, because Tuesday night, we will be at the District Spelling Bee. The Pony is an alternate. And, like Miss America's first runner-up, should any of the three contestants be unable to fulfill their duties, The Pony will compete for Basementia in the 12-school competition. So, like a Broadway understudy, he has to be prepared and present in the event he is called upon to perform.
He is looking forward to it. One future contestant did not attend a single after-school practice session. I cautioned him to be ready, but not disappointed if all three show up. He says he's got it covered.
Let the spelling begin!