Squeaker has been on the road again for a health dose of family vacation. Contrary to what you see here, she did travel in a car. Sorry for the late post. We returned home last night and the Daddy person forgot about his blogging responsibilities until this morning.
She has continued her relationship with sugar this week with two more visits to the S'mores factory and some wonderful, world famous homemade ice cream from the Conicville Volunteer Fire Department. These 'experiments' gave us insight in to just how rare it is that she gets large doses of sugar and how good a thing that is for all concerned. Before her last S'more she was reclining on the patio telling us how tired she was and looking for all the world like she would be asleep in a few moments if we left her alone. Five minutes after her S'more she was all but shaking from the sugar. At the carnival, sugar+bluegrass = lots of dancing, as well the Daddy person repeatedly banging his head into a wall for having forgotten his camera. She had an excellent time, although she learned an important lesson.
When Momzie took her to the restroom, Squeaker put her world famous raspberry ice cream on a shelf near Granddaddy. When she returned, it was not there. Daddy, Momzie, and Granddaddy were all eating bowls of ice cream. When she figured out where her bowl was, she gave Granddaddy a look usually reserved for the defendants at "the Nuremberg Tribunals" (Editor's Note: His words not mine...).
That's all the news that's fit to print. Enjoy the week.
