Earthy Hour at Maybelle’s Cottage, don’tcha know

What a night! All my good friends came by for Earthy Hour, don’tcha know. The boys… Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom, Twindle Mumbly and Beanpole Starkman put a whole bunch of logs in the pit just out back of my cottage, and like magic, a bonfire blazed with light.

A big fat moon hung in the night sky —  almost full, you could see a gy-normuss ring around its collar.

Then me and the girls — Vilma Yuccch and Sybil Beucannon Hughes tied notes to a wishing tree, don’tcha know. Sybil wished for clean energy…I wished for action from world leaders on the climate. And I don’t mean taking a girlfriend to Florida!  And Vilma wished Officer McBottom would finally propose to her, don’tcha know.

Well then …at 8:30PM  I turned all my cottage lights out, and we all turned our heads toward downtown Lake WhaddyathinkImean (all two blocks of it). Well wouldn’tcha know,  the only thing that was lit up was Leroy Shingels. I swear, there were more beers in that man than at the beer store.

We were gonna roast marshmellows, but Bogart found ’em before we could eat ’em and ate the whole bag himself.  Bears these days.

9:30 came and the fire was still a-blazing.  The temperature dropped and we all huddled close like spokes on an umbrella, don’tcha know.

It was the best Earthy Hour this ol’ gal can remember.

And if the Federal government actually does something about climate change, I will dance a jig with Bogart ’til the cows come home. And I wish they would. I miss them.

Nightie night.  Maybelle

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