Trial Balloon

Trial Balloon: October 12, 2009 Archive

While the Cat's Away

Posted at 5:35 AM on October 12, 2009 by Dale Connelly (21 Comments)

The mice played!

More about that in a moment, but first - here's a late addtion to today's post - a chance to win a pair of tickets to see John McCutcheon at the Cedar Cultural Center this Saturday night, October 17th! It's simple.
Enter here.
Obey the rules.
We'll close off entries at 1pm on Tuesday.
Good luck!

Thanks to Mike Pengra and Julia Schrenkler and all the busy bloggers who kept things rolling during my vacation - Elinor, Donna, Barbara in Robbinsdale, Mike In Albert Lea, That Guy In The Hat and Barb in Blackhoof, along with everyone who chipped in with comments. Unlike the classroom teacher who doesn't want "the same old hands", I was delighted to see familiar names along with some brand new ones as I spent an enjoyable and somewhat alarming Sunday evening reviewing what went on while I was busy not being here.

Here's some of what I discovered:

Elopement. Belly dancing. Table dancing.
An inexplicable rash of impulsive weddings, including ceremonies at Disney World, the Renaissance Festival, in the woods, a cabin, a public park.
Intense sibling rivalry. Made-up deaths. Thrown blocks. A flaming dress stuffed in a bucket. Somebody brought an air rifle to bed to shoot bears out of the chimney.
There was radical talk of punks, pink hair and power tools.
The fountain of youth was discovered. On water skis. On horseback. On the ground immediately after being on horseback. In a pail of sidewalk chalk, and in numerous exotic locations around the world.
As if that wasn't enough strange behavior, people proposed seminars in loud whistling, noodle making, mechanical bull riding, Taiko drumming, playing the ocarina and catching a fly with chopsticks.
And in case you're looking for a name for your new band, how about:

The Unbearables
Mocker E. Jiver
Charge The Burger
Zapp Poppa
And Electric McFetus.

What a group. In my selfish universe, it is a revelation that you continue to exist even when I'm not paying attention - like the sudden discovery that your parents (or your children) have vivid and humorous lives, even when you're not around.

Or especially when you're not around.

Have you ever returned (to a home, a job, a school) to find that others were having too much fun in your absence?

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