Cloak and Dagger and Meerkats: A Joel Black Adventure

Once Upon A Time in a lovely house in the lovely city St.Louis in the lovely state of Missouri in the lovely U.S.A. on the lovely planet Earth in the lovely Milky Way galaxy there lived a lyrical young man.  (Lovely just didn't sound right. Though he is.)

This boy's name was Joel Black. (Names have been changed to protect the identities of all involved). He had brown eyes, brown hair, brown shoes, and enjoyed wearing the color brown. (A pity his name wasn't Joel Brown, eh?). Joel was brilliant young homeschooler who was a bit or a perfectionist and loved to sing and dance in his spare time.

On this particular morning Joel Black was so excited he almost wet his pants but decided to call his friend Heather Baker instead. Joel was just pressing call when Heather burst through the front door and beamed beatifically.

"Whats the good news?!" She asked, slightly out of breath from running down the road a few houses down.

"Wha- how did you know I wanted to talk to you?"

Heather rolled her eyes. Joel and Heather had been friends for so long that if Joel so much as sneered a cow creamer Heather could sense it.

Joel waved his hand. "Nevermind. Guess what! I just heard from my literature teacher and talked with my parents and I'm GOING TO ENGLAND THIS SUMMER!"

Heather leapt for joy and they decided to celebrate by baking a celebratory cake and watching old Wooster and Jeeves episodes. Little did Joel know that in a few short months he would be wishing he was back in that cozy house, laughing so hard that frosting shot out his nose and dreaming of scones and tea.

(DUN_DUN_DUUUUUUUNNNNNN!)

4 Months Later...

"Why in the name of fish 'n' chips did I ever decide to come on this hike?" Joel muttered through his chattering teeth. He had been having a most wonderful time travelling through the rustic moors of England; visiting churches full of dead people, eating delicious food in London, lounging in the London Eye and singing with drunken Englishmen on the train. Everything was going just splendidly until his group had decided to go hike a the Cat's Bells mountain. Even that had been ok at first. It was a a bright and beautiful morning, like a freshly scrubbed goldfish. Joel leapt up the mountainside like a caffeinated goat with his delightful travel mates and admired the view of the lake below and the rolling land stretching as far as the eye could see and generously sprinkled with sheep.

Soon the travellers slowed, though. The higher they got, the harder the wind blew; shoving the hikers off balance of the steepest parts of the path and slicing rain ponchos to confetti. After the first mountain peak came another, then another, then another. With each peak the group grew slower and the once blue sky a rumbling boil of grey rainclouds. Then, somewhere far above them, God must have bellyflopped into his bathtub because water fell in not only sheets but in pillows, mattresses, and duvets of water. The last straw, however, was the realization that the all of the smuggled tarts had been eaten. Forgetting their hike, Joel and his friends fled back the way they had come.

Everyone was slowly becoming more and more waterlogged until they felt like soggy tube socks teetering down the mountain peaks in freezing cold rain. Well, everyone except Mary Magenta. She was leaping, perhaps even fueled by the harsh conditions, and already planning how she was going to go swimming in the sub-zero lake when they got back to the hostel. But thats Mary for you.

Almost an hour later, so cold that hypothermia had surely set in, Joel was inching his way on a narrow ledge around the final peak. Or was it the third to last peak? He had lost count. Somehow he had pulled ahead of his friends and was taking another step when he slipped on the slick rocks and fell forewards, turning, twisting, the world blurring until he felt the hard embrace of the ground and blackness enveloped him.

Joel was rudely awoken by an army on angry rubber duckies. Thats what it sounded like, anyway. He opened his eyes to find a dozen furry creature staring at him.

"AHhhhh!" screamed Joel like a little boy discovering he had cooties. He scrambled to his feet and promptly fell back down on the backside of his brown shorts from the dizziness of rolling down the side of a mountain.

"He-hello?" he squeaked, looking around him in vain for another human in the little cave he seemed to have woken up in. There was a fire burning brightly in the corner along with several copper pots and pans and a strangely out of place door in the packed dirt wall. All that met his eyes was the mob of downy grey creatures that had woken him. They perched on their hind legs, their elongated necks bending so they could study Joel with curiosity.

"Um...nice freakishly tall kitties?"

"We are not 'kitties", my good man. We are commonly known as "Meerkats"," rose a voice from the thrall. The animals parted and a rather posh meerkat strolled forward, pipe in hand. Joel had never seen anything like it. The meerkat was impeccably dressed in a velvet dressing gown and silk ascot and had a rye smile on his suave little meerkat face.

"Splendid to make you acuantince, Sir ....?" The meerkat paused, expectantly.

"Joel. Joel Black."

"Ah. Sir Joel Black. Welcome to our meerhome. I am Earnest Augustus Bob Meerkat the Fourth and this is my family. I do apologize for the mess, our guests don't usually roll unconscious to our doorstep."

"Oh, well, yes. Sorry about that, I slippped. Wait, I didn't think meerkats even lived in England?" (For some reason this was Joel's first thought, not why the meerkats could talk.)

"Quite. We were first attracted by the booming comercial industry but were so enchanted we decided to stay on. In fact, I have extended family living all over England working in the underground meerkat chocolate industry."

Joel rubbed his head, wondering just how hard he had hit it. "The underground what?"

"Chocolate making industry, of course. Why, its a well known fact that the finest sweets in the world are made by meerkats! The Queen herself has a meerkat on staff at each of her palaces, its that good. Really, you'd think you were the one who lived in a hole! Haven't you heard of Dove Chocolate?"

Joel felt quite a fool. "Yes, its delicious. But if its made by meerkats then why is it called Dove?"

Earnest sighed and puffed his pipe. "If I had a pound for every time I heard that question! Its the most frequently asked after the recipe for my prize winning watermellon and banana pancakes. Well, Dove actually stands for Darling Oblique Valiant Elephants. It was the name of my boy band back in the day. When the band failed due to the horrendous name we shortened it to Dove and have been using it ever since." Earnest re-lit his pipe and stared off into the distance for a moment. "Lennon always said the name should have been "Pugs 'n' Drugs". I just loved puppies too much."

Joel nodded thoughtfully. "I can see why you band failed. Well, its been a pleasure, but I must get back to my group." He regretfully stood up.

"Wait! You must be starving, let us prepare you a snack before you go on your way. Julia, bring out the pancakes!"

Soon Joel and the Meerkats were having an absolutely smashing time, frolicking about the den and dining on watermelon and banana pancakes the size of Newt Gingrich's head (and they really were quite scrumptious). Joel taught his new friends how to play Ninja and in return they made him a batch of specially made meerkat chocolate for the road. They even wrapped the sweets in individual gold foil with inspirational meerkat proverbs or yore.

Joel waved goodbye to his new friends and set off on the round-a-bout shortcut. When he reached the crest of the mountain and looked back to see he was in fact still ahead of his travelling companions he thought about telling them his fantastic tale of meerkats and chocolate...but decided against it. After all, he reasoned, if it was true that the chocolate meerkat industry was as well known as Earnest had said then he would look a right fool for admitting he was the last to know. And besides, the message on the inside of his chocolate wrapper he was eating said:

"Sir Joel, I almost forgot: Our den must be confidential knowledge. Please tell no one of our location, there are Wonka spies everywhere. Come back soon! Sincerely - Earnest Augustus Bob Meerkat the Fourth"

How the meerkats had managed to fit all that writing onto that tiny square of foil was beyond Joel but he kept his lips sealed. Well, except when he slipped a chocolate.

Joel's friends were amazed at how much energy Joel had when they caught up with him.

"Joel!" they said. "We are amazed by how much energy you have!" There was one bothersome thing nagging at Joel that the meerkats hadn't fixed, though. His trousers were so cold and wet still that it felt like he was wearing a fish. Mary came to the rescue however and lent him her extra pair of furry pants and Joel was soon running down the mountain to the waiting bus in his pink pj pants covered in pictures of Tinker Bell with wild abandon. Not even the looks of other hikers in scandalously short shorts when Joel's friends yelled "JOEL, YOUR PINK FAIRY PANTS ARE SLIPPING!" could slow him down. Now that, ladies and gentleman, is a confidant man. Or a silly American who didn't yet know that "Pants", in England, is what they call underwear.

Several Days Later...

"Good Gravy and Other Glorious Things!" Joel's seatmate Hannah Music flopped onto the minibus seat and pulled out her headphones to listen to some Kpop for the long bus ride ahead. Charlotte and Mariah started laughing uproariously at something they had seen on Mariah's laptop in the back and Gemima, Charlotte's little sister, ran over and sat on the seat across the aisle. Joel's group had just visited a quaint town on a walk through the rain to enjoy the scenery. And the gift shops. And perhaps most of all the heavenly bakery full of all sorts of whipped, baked, and flaky perfect dream desserts.

"Hannah! Can I listen to my favorite song again?" Gemima pipped up in her lisping British accent. Combined with angelic blonde hair and wide eyes, she was a force of cuteness to be reckoned with.

"Sure. Just give it back when you are done, ok?"

Gemima settled into her seat, nodding her head and singing, "Hey Sooouuullll Sis'ta! Ain't that Mis'ta Mis'ta on the Radiooo, Stereoooo, Oooh-ohhh-ooooh-oh-oh!" (There were some gaps in her knowledge of the lyrics).

"Whats the gravy about?" asked Joel.

"I'm just so tired. I feel like we just did the Hike from Heck all over again." Hannah yawned and wadded up her coat behind her head.

"What, I loved that hike! Except for those scary biker guys that almost murdered David and I in our sleep at the Youth Hostel."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Joel. They were a bunch of older Scottish guys who liked to ride vintage bikes. I think your lives were hardly in danger."

Joel smiled. "You are probably right, Hannah. You always are! After all, you are supremely intelligent and beautiful and by far the most skilled Ninja player I have ever met."

(Ok, some dialogue might have been slightly altered. Just a little.)

Joel was about to go on defending his case as a near murder victim (ahem, praising Hannah) when something caught his eye just outside the bus window. A coal black 2000 Honda Civic paused next to the bus, stopping just long enough for Joel to see the window roll down and Earnest the Meerkat (wearing stylish Bond-esq shades, I might add) salute before the car roared off. Joel grinned to himself. While his friends might be bringing home pictures, little figures of the Big Ben on key chains, and a cold or two; Joel had a secret and memories that were so unbelievable that only the chocolate wrappers in his pocket could possibly make someone believe.

The bus rumbled to life and they were off. Somewhere, today, in the lovely Milky Way Galaxy, on the lovely planet Earth, in the lovely U.S.A., in the lovely state of Missouri in the lovely city of St. Louis in a lovely house there is a lyrical young man named Joel Black. He might appear to be like any other brilliant homeschooler with a knack for stacking cups but don't be fooled. Agents of the Underground Dove Chocolate Meerkat industry are well trained and only the most observant person might hear the crinkle of foil wrapper, the drop of milk chocolate on his t-shirt, and the twinkle of a secret in his eye. But you didn't hear anything from me.

Espionage and Ewes,

-Hannah

Fish 'n' Chips with a Side of Madness

-Whew!- I'm just taking a quick break from my flurry of cooking to write up this post. The chips (fries for you Americany people) are toasting in the oven, fish are waiting to be cooked (they're dead and breaded anyway, they can wait a few minutes) and the various side dishes, sauces, and silverware is set out on the table. I'm afraid that there won't be any fruit because we're too busy to buy it fresh and the can opener is trying to be aloof and elusive. Mission accomplished, can opener, i've even looked in my sister's bedroom and I can't find you. I did find the scissors and my lil' 4 year old sister yelling, "MY THUMB! BABY JESUS IS ON MY THUMB!"

Welcome to my mad, yet marvelous, life.

Right, back to the subject of this whole thing-a-ma-blog. Time I explained why I have a blog in the first place.

I started writing emails to my friends telling them (whether they wanted to know or not) about my school frustration, thoughts, problems, and bizarre stories. Apparently there was something entertaining about the ramblings of a strange teenager, so they sent the emails to their friends, and pretty soon I had a pretty big group. As someone with a silly name once said,

"The insane, on occasion, are not without their charms."-Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Just to make things more convenient plus be able to add pictures, videos, and links I set up this blog. That way anyone, not just those who hack my email, can see my ramblings. Usually most of the people who do read my blog are friends, family, and people who google "suave mustache pictures" (?), and some stray Canadians. (Really, the second biggest demographic behind Canada is India. Weird, huh?)

Anyway, my french fries are hissing and my sisters have set up what sounds like a MMA fight in the garage, so i'd better go and resume my duties as eldest sister. Oh, see, I can hear one of them crying right now. For a bunch of little kids they hit hard. And bite hard. I should know.

Fishsticks and Custard,
Hannah

I MADE THIS FOR YOU

This post is devoted to the inspired girl extraordinaire, Mariah. My friend and fellow lover of Dr.Who, Chameleon Circuit and Co., England, and anything nerdelicious.
 Heres looking at you, kid. 

Here Comes my Baby,
-Hannah

Sheep Story 2: "It's a Bird! It's a Plane! It's a...Unicorn Pegasus? "

Now Continued...

  Hungry homeschoolers are a dangerous things. When the decadent smells of porridge, tea, and toast began to filter upstairs the slumbering students woke with hungry groans and sleepy eyes. As they trampled down to the breakfast room in various states of dress, the Sheep Impostors slipped into the group as well. You would think that the humans would notice that their two male comrades had been replaced with sheep and were eating the flowers at the place settings instead of the toast, but not this early in the morning. Plus, considering that the sheep's eating habits didn't strike the group as odd just goes to show you how starved teenagers eat in the morning. 

Away across the English countryside, the real Joel and David were curled into the fetal position and snoring away on a moving puddle of sheep. Terrance the Sheep (again, related distantly to Terrance the Pig) was atop a stone tower on a high hill watching the sheep through a telescope and lying in wait for the humans. It was almost time to begin revenge on the humans...

Completely unawares, the humans were singing Phantom of the Opera at the top of their lungs as the minibus rumbled down, up, and over the hilly country, annoying the marmite out of the driver. Joel and Dave sheep pretended to sleep to make up for their lack of humanistic singing qualities. 

Terrance saw the approaching bus from the distance and smiled sheepishly. (It's really the only way they can smile, if you think about it.) Using his handy-dandy walkie-talkie from Tescos, he gave the command. It was time to call in a favour with his old friend and relative, Terrance the Pig.

Terrance the Pig owed Terrance the Sheep a favour or two. It's a long story for another time involving the FBI, sunglasses, and a whole lot of sausages. But that's not important. The important thing is, Terrance owed Terrance and Terrence wanted Terrance to sabotage the bus for Terrance. So, Terrange the pig rolled out of Brianna's pocket, down the bus aisle, and beneath the driver's seat. Casually, the little pink pig rolled onto the brake, breaking the minibus to a complete halt. Sneakily, Terrance rolled back up the aisle and into Bri's pocket. Mission Accomplished.

Part 2 of the mission began. On Terrance the Sheep's command (and a bribe involving Airplane Banana Loaf), a herd of horses descended from the sky and assembled around the group of confused homeschool tourists pacing outside the bus. No, not horses. Horses with unicorn horns and majestic white wings and sparkly hooves. They were UNICORN PEGASAI! OR PEGASAI UNICORN (if you're dyslexic)!

The humans ---, well, it's obvious right? What would you do if you were approached by a pegasai unicorn? Besides the one student who fainted of shock and sparkle overload, the humans ran to the animals and hugged them until they couldn't feel anything in their arms. They then climbed on the Unicorn Pegasai's backs and flew away where they frolicked around Britain all day and ate ice cream on Big Ben. Oh, and stopped in to have tea wit Nessie.

Joel and David the Humans, were finally woken. maybe it was the sunlight, maybe it was the sheep chewing on their Toms. All they knew is they heard an awful lot of squeeeeeing in the distance and the flapping of wings. Terrance the Sheep had been strangely silent for several hours now and the sheep had started to forget their purpose. And Terrance the Sheep. And that they were supposed to be exacting revenge on the Humans they carried. No, they were too dazzled by the outstanding tibias of the tall human, David, and the wild curly hair of the other human, Joel. So, with nothing else to do, David was appointed King of the Tibias and Joel was honored to become the Sheep Witch-Doctor. 

For several hours King Tibs and the Wise Witch-Doctor were having a great time. Joel was giving the sheep wool therapy and giving magical hoove massages with the mystical stuff called "Hand Sanitizer". King Tibs was holding a tibia zumba class for the sheep on a grassy hillock next to the river. Everything was peachy until Joel started getting hungry. Sheep Witch-Doctors do not live on thistle alone and he couldn't help but salivate as he watched muttons frolicking to music in the fields. He held himself back until he couldn't stand the hunger a second longer. Tonight, he'd dine on MUTTON TIKA MASALA! With a roar, he ran forward and tackled a shimmying sheep.

Joel and the Sheep plunged over the hill and landed in the icy lake. The sheep squealed wildly as Joel lifted it and prepared to take a bite out of his sheep steak. The other sheep gathered on the hill and began to advance, Bhaaaaaaaaing loudly. King Tibs led the way, leading the herd. 

Meanwhile, the humans were getting quite hungry as well. It had been a long day and the Pegasai Unicorn promised to take the students to a pub, their treat. The pub was a Pegasai Unicorn pub and the humans sat down at their table to wait for their food, admiring the waiter who had a striking resemblance to Zach Efron and giggling. After awhile, they noticed that it had gotten very quiet in the pub. All the unicorn pegasai had begun to gather around the human's table, their sparkly hoove's clopping eerily on the floorboards. The students smiled nervously and asked the Unicorn Pegasai if the food was on it's way. 

The food? Why, it's already arrived!" The Unicorn Pegasis licked his ink lips. Was that...blood on his muzzle next to the Polly Pocket tattoo? The humans shook as they realized... They were the food.

So what will happen next? Will Joel get his dinner? Will the carnivorous Unicorn Pegasai get there's? Will the writer get her's? Tune in next time for a salivating-good story!

To Be Continued...

"Sheep Story" OR "The Toupee has Fallen...and Other Tales of Whimsy and Adventure"

Once Upon A Time...

It was a dark, rainy night in England (as most nights there are). The rain fell from the sheepy clouds like a jar of pins, rattling with the sound of lightening and then hitting the brownstone church with chill, sharp pitter-patters. The ivy desperately climbing up the side of the stones was beat down by the elements, but some had grown high enough to encircle a second circle window. The window glowed with the light of a florescent bulb and looked into a bedroom of teenage girls.

The bunk beds were creaking as the girls hopped around in their fluffy PJs and made up bedtime stories. Some were scary, some were funny, some were wooly. 

A short distance away on a grassy moor, a herd of sheep huddled together for warmth from the sharp rain. They shivered and one of the smaller sheep tripped and rolled away from the others. A gale quickly had it rolling away down the hills and hillocks like a wet cotton ball. No one really noticed. Byaahhh (that was the sheep's name) had a habit of wandering off.

The other sheep hardly noticed so preoccupied with the weather they were. There was no help for it. The leader of this wild pack of sheep, Terrance the Sheep was his name, whistled and ordered the herd to move forward. To be frank, his mutton was freezing and they would have to go to extreme measures: It was time to find human habitation.

The sheep were drawn to the bright window of the church. By hopping onto one another's backs they soon had a stack o' sheep reaching to the window. Terrance looked in and quickly ordered the swaying tower of sheep to move on to the next window. Human girls were far too loud, wouldn't go to sleep for hours, and he was alarmed by one girl's bright red shorts.

Slowly moving on, the sheep came to a far more pleseant window. The room inside was unlit, muggy, and inhabited by two gently sleeping human boys. Terrence smiled. Perfect. 

You must understand, these were highly athletic sheep. Not very bright, certainly, but Terrance did most of the thinking for them. By climbing up the tower and making a sheep rope of sorts by biting the wool of their neighbor sheep, the herd managed to squeeze, push, and jam every last mutton into the room. The human boys, also known as Joel Brown and David Tate, were in a Ninja-induced coma or sorts and were sound asleep. Even having a herd of sheep snuggle into bed beside them could not disturb their slumber. The arrangements were ideal but for one small detail: the Human boy with the incredibly long legs (David) was snoring quite loudly. This too was soon taken care of by a large and extremely woolly sheep sitting on David's face. The snores were quite muffled then.

The night passed quickly and the morning rose like a brightly-colored sponge: Cheerful but slightly damp. David the Human stretched and accidentally hit Terrence the Sheep and several other of the herd in the noggin with his lengthy tibia (a human shinbone). The sheep "BaaaaaAAA!"-ed in quietly in upset anger. They had come in peace to share the room and what had they been greeted with in the morning? A TIBIA TO THE HEAD, THATS WHAT! Suffice it to say, their wool was steamed. So, what else could they do? They plotted revenge.  

Still sound asleep, the sheep bundled away Joel and David the Humans, sliding them down the sheep's backs and onto a plush trampoline of sheep huddled together into a circular formation. Two sheep were chose from the herd: A brown sheep and a tall black sheep. With a nice toupee Joel and David toupee, they were perfect impostors for their human counterparts. Little did Joel and David the Humans, snoozing on the sheep bed as it wandered aimlessly over the countryside, realize that their woolly twins were bundled up in their bunk beds, lying in wait and nibbling on the pillows for a nice snack.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Kissy Lips All Round

Mi amigos and tomodachi (and friends!),

 

    I'm sitting at the chaparones's computer typing as fast as I can to get anything in before it's time to go upstairs and pack up again. Like last night. And every other night before. I love it.

    There seems to be a lot of love going around so far. David has a British stalker, Joel has a fan club, and the girls tease them mercilessly about it. You've probably already seen some evidence on facebook. There is even a huge kissy lips phone staring at me from the corner. And fit (cute) Brits from the cafe watching my friend Steph eat her ice cream cone. She just read that over my shoulder and kicked me.

    The scenery is beautiful (somethimes deadly), the people wonderful (sometimes drunk), and my travelmates pleseant (Mostly. sometimes tired and a few snore).

    Got to go, it's time to find some furry boots and ride a bike through the drippy countryside from the town where Shakespeare was struck with his ultimate inspiration: Kissy lips.

   

Oops! 

    Love and Other Forms of Chocolate,

-Hannah (ONE of the travelling S.I.C.O.s)

Would You Like Some Stress With Your Toast?

I'm ecstatically, expectantly happy right now, but preparing for an international trip isn't a picnic (American or British). The itinerary, the fundraising, the stacks of overdue travel books from the library; the PACKING; there are so many things to do. Yet, so few. So, personally, whats the hardest part of preparing for an international trip for me? The waiting. 

And waiting. And waiting. About a month before the date of departure you start counting off the days until the Final Seven Days when the hours seem to ooze by like snail in a molasses puddle. In slo-mo. Even with having to prepare for finals as well i'm still in a perpetual state of patience. Stress is released from the waiting humanoids then gathers and condenses in the house until its so palpable you could cut with a butter knife and serve it with tea. My stomach starts to revolt on about Day 4 of the countdown and my stomach juices are swishing around in flushed traveler's anticipation (which doesn't feel all that great, let me tell you.) My muscles start to tense up, my eyebrows furrow. Oh, let Tuesday come already!

The good news is that all of the stress buildup, the waiting, simply melts away in blessed relief on Day 1: Departure. Suddenly my tummy will be happy again, my shoulders will be movable again, and i'll be packed and completely ready to leave. Actually getting on the Megabus that will eventually lead to England will be like a shot of adrenaline. 

Until that moment, i'm going to have to stick to my usual methods of relaxation: drinking loads of cool bevreges, listening to my favorite music, and asking my little sisters for a deep-tissue massage (aka just laying on the floor and having them run and jump all over my back). Oh, and sating my travel appetite by reading the pretty prose of travel books.

On a happier note, my Mom has devised a way to cheat pickpockets and sketchy characters on the trip. Instead of stuffing all the passports, money, and emergency info for the students into a purse she is planning to pack it into a bum pack, wear it under her shirt and jacket, and claim pregnancy. She has enough practice. I'm hoping to take advantage of the situation and get nice treatment at eateries, theatre performances, etc. Maybe i should pose as pregnant! A pillow or two and I could get special treatment everywhere I went. Or...maybe not. I'm already assumed the teenage mother of my sisters more often than i'd like, I don't need to start a Day Care. 

Jet-Setting Jabber,

-Hannah

A Poetical Fiasco

At the moment, life does not permit me to write out the long and hopefully interesting email in my head. I'll do that later this week. Until then, I will express my current state of life in this poetic scrap:

My schedule is stacked. My bags are unpacked. 

Homework unfinished, Trip excitement undiminished.

Final Week Approaching, Stress levels soaring,

Procrastination innate. Grades, don't deflate!

Lists, Lists, Lists:

Shopping, Packing, Travel Tips.

"To Do", "To Don't", "To Forget".

Mad as a Hatter, I'll be a cat that caters,

"A cuppa' sugar an' two lumps of tea,

Would you like a scone, Miss Lee?"

The clock ticks like a tell-tale heart,

When will school end and travel start?

(Oh, some quick explanation: I'm going to dressed as the Cheshire Cat at a tea room at the approaching British Faire. The next weekend is Finals Week. Early the day after Finals we leave for Britain. Do you see my dilemma?)

We're All Mad Here,

Hannah

Wading in the Ocean in Kilts: YES

The champagne-tinted moon hung low and full in the night sky, brushing the tips of the trees and resting on the McDonald's sign while our car paused at a stoplight.

That sentence has been circling my brain continually since last night, waiting to be written. Several weeks ago I wrote a

piece on one of my UK Trip meetings at the London Tea Room, this time our meeting was at the Hall's lovely and snack-laden

abode. Those lemon bars, strawberries, and brownies were just amazing.

I don't have very muchness of time to write right now, but here

are my educational and intelligent notes from the late

half of the trip meeting:

NOTES

“…and possibly encounter scotish people.”

“They might be hiding behind the wall?”

“Oh yes. They are like ninjas, you know.”

…laughter…

“That’s what everybody has said!”

Oy, lets go fetch some wee kilts in Scottyland!

Lakes…

“In the know” for Loch Ness

Many walls is England. They couldn’t keep us in, though!

Happy, happy hat!

“Foooouuuuuurrrrr! Four Four!”

More lakes…

So many snacks, so many choices, so many drinks, can’t reach

a single one. For the want of a lemon there was agony.

HOT AIR BALLOON

Look up the London Dungeon at home.

We’re playing travel Clue!

The Roman Ruins: Will we see ruined Romans?

England: A Lotta Stuff

Brianna’s Siblings: “…the food lured out the local wildlife.

David even got to help in the extraordinary process of feeding the beasts. They

ate sun chips, lemon bars, carrots, brownies, and their father. Excuse me, I

mean they brought the father with them. Opps, there they go, scared by all the

people. The father ate a lemon bar, tomatoes, strawberries, grapes, and some other

snack goodies. David did not help feed him.”

Dad and Mr.Tate are whispering in the corner…about diapers?

The boarder of Whales. Is it made of Whales?! We must see

WHALES! (As in the animals)

Bad, bad David. Choosing a 2. He should have been a 5.

“Baah.” – Deborah

Charlieissocoollike…I show my love by stalking you…

King Offa: The Greedy King. He kept building walls.

Sorry Offa: Your pikes just aren’t attractive enough for us.

You’re dirt to us. And a mound at that.

Do we actually get to Bathe is Bath? And is it’s sister town

Shower? Also, if you are travelling in Bath, are you technically bathing?

Bath: A tourist’s excuse to go skinny-dipping. Also, the

true story behind sightings of the Loch Ness Monster?

“I’m sure they would think we were students.” – David

Would they? SO that means my Mom is a student mother?

Fashion Museum: Joel wants to go.

Deb is licking the Hall’s couch. Do I want to know? …no, its

funnier this way.

“Those children get great discounts!” – Joel, an angry

non-child

Longleat: YES. JUST SAY YES.

“10 am to 5 pm…”

Is it just me or does that picture of the adorable little

boy on the wall have a white Styrofoam booger?

EVERYONE who reads this: Go youtube “Walk on the Wild Side”

David: “blah, blah, blah, blah blah, bal DOCTOR WHO, Bla-“

Us: “WHAT!? Doctor Who? YES!”

“Maiden. It needs love.” – Deb

THEY are still whispering. This is so annoying, WHAT ARE

THEY SAYING?!?

Reeeaally want a drink, but don’t want to pick through the

maze of people to get there. Arrgggg.

Now we are voting stuff off the island. NOT ST.IVES!

Whadda’bout homestays?

“We shouldn’t go to Edinburough.”

Deb: (Sad face)

“Stop using logic against Scotland!” – Deb

What is Brianna waving at…?

“What they should do is take bath…” – Mother Mary

NOW I will go get a drink. FINISHED!

…maybe finished. I won’t put away my sleeping-bag just yet.

Wait, the next meeting is at my house? Time to start hiding

the evidence! :D

END

As you can see, I was paying very close attention to the trip meeting. VERY close attention.

Anyway, must fly! I have far too much homework and far too little time to complete it. I am, you might say, in a jam.

Strawberry, I hope.

Mathematical Jelly,

-Hannah