Billy, Bedbugs, and Bowling

So I'm posting every Sunday now. Even though there's not much drama. But this way, if some drama WERE to drift through, you would know about it by the following Sunday.

We missed Hurricane Earl this week. It passed by North Carolina and headed up toward New York. With all that wind, I was hoping it might help New York by blowing all the bed bugs out of there.

But I guess that's not a very polite thing to wish on the Canadians.

Canadian Mom: "Mon Dieu! Qu'est que ce all deez leetle teeny creetures dat just blew in and can lives for a year wizout food?"

Canadian's son: "They're from New York. They're called supermodels."

But anyway, Bill taught a whole week of classes with no apparatus breakages. He was so happy.

On Friday afternoon, we suddenly got the idea to go bowling at a real bowling alley in Boone. (I have to specify "real" bowling alley because so many of you may have Wii "pretend" bowling in your living rooms, where you throw an imaginary ball at imaginary pins on the TV screen, and when your ball repeatedly lands in the imaginary gutter, you yell out imaginary cuss words.)

Bill and I were absolutely HORRIBLE bowlers. In fact, I was so bad that my ball once actually went into the gutter of the lane NEXT to ours.

Not only were we bad, but we both blew out our kneecaps playing only one game.

Anyone reading this who has a need to engage in a sports-related activity that will make you feel vastly superior to your fellow human beings (me and Bill), consider meeting us at the bowling alley next Friday at 3. That's when the place is almost empty.

Well, call us first to make sure our kneecaps are working by then.

Love to all,

Diamond Lilly and Wild Mister Billy