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Nosey Neighbors and Newsletters...

Rita from next door stopped by again. That annoying hag told me my daughter has become emo. I'm not sure what that means, but Rita spoke as if it weren't a good thing. She said I should spend more time with her, or else I'm going to be sorry. What does she know about raising kids anyway. Just because her grandaughter is a complete bookworm (she's read every book in the Series of Unfortunate Events) doesn't make her an authority on raising children. I can't tell you how good it felt to see her fat ass finally walk out of that door.

I shouldn't be so angry. Rita's really a kind person. I'm just frustrated because I can't get
W. B. to reach out to me. I've tried, but she's so moody and...well, weird. She's not responding to my typical father diatribe, so I guess it's time for some different tactics. Maybe I'll try to stop by and see her Friday for her birthday. If I can't Friday, then Saturday for sure.

Today the weather was grand, but we'll have to wait until tomorrow to sail home. John's going to come with me for this trip. I let him listen to one of the recordings, and he suggested I write the newsletters. I thought he needed to hear the rest of them to have a better understanding since he's going to publish them. The area and recordings still puzzle me greatly. Perhaps someday I will find someone who can make sense of it.

Hiya Hank, Crazymunch Here

Just Curious, Where are you Right Now?

Are you at the Triangle?

Please reply, we're all counting on you Hank

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