Alton's tongue continues to mend. His wound is no longer gapping at least. I hope it'll be completely healed by next week.
* * *
The baby spent a lot of time trying to sit in the bed of a plastic dump truck last night. Never mind that the truck kept flipping backwards because the load was to heavy or that the tires slipped across our uneven yard, Alton aimed to get in that dump truck if it took all night. He did make it into the truck a couple of times, but I think he found the experience rather unfulfilling.
* * *
Will Election Day ever arrive?
* * *
My dad is a fossil junkie. The man is absolutely crazy about fossiliferous rock formations and strata. Just ask my mom. The poor woman has logged countless hours alongside road cuts while my dad scours for geologic treasures.
A couple of years ago my dad found a Mosasaur – a furious marine reptile of the Cretaceous Period – during a Kansas dig. He named the beast after me.
While moving my sister from the West Coast, my dad found several fine Trilobites – extinct arthropods that appeared in the Early Cambrian period. His finds were appropriately named in honor my sister.
His most recent find – a semi-aquatic predatory reptile that flourished during the Late Triassic Period known as a Phytosaur – belongs to my brother.
How cool is that?!
* * *
Today a caller told me, "I appreciate the thriftiness of your speech." I'm afraid he may be alone in that assessment.
