Don't say I didn't warn you.

I read Pippi Goes On Board today. And discovered that if ever there was an author who had a weird mind it was Astrid Lindgren. Wow.  "My name is Pippilotta Delicatessa Windowshade Mackrelmint Efraim's Doughter Longstocking, daughter of Captain Efraim Longstocking, formerly the Terror of the Sea, now a cannibal king. But everybody calls me Pippi."

 I find that disturbing. At least Charles Lutwidge Dodgson could come up with a nice sensible name like Alice, for his main character.  
 I actually think part of the problem is that my brain is having a hard time keeping up with normal everyday happenings right now, let alone odd things like un-birthday parties, and cannibals.
 I'm beginning to think that when I grow old and hobble around with a pink hat on my head and carry a parrot on my shoulder, that I shall still have a packet of tissue's stuffed in my large yellow purse and be blowing my nose and eating cough drops every other minute. (I do SO love run-on sentences!!!). 
 I was supposed to start school a week ago yesterday, and guess what, I still haven't. I shall probably still be feeling guilty about not being able teach when I'm old too. DJ and Gin will probably have forgiven me by then though. So I shall survive.
 There is NBCC tonight. I just remembered. I'm going to miss it. Shucks.  
I am going away now. This post is beginning to look disturbingly much like something Lindgren or Dodgson would have written, oh dear. Ta ta! -Frank