Good morning Boys and Girls.

Last day of March, '09. Another month, flying away, and like the witch's monkeys, it's spooky as it joins its brothers in formation.

The consensus, amongst those with whom I've had occasion to yap about the weather over the last few days, is that it's been a backwards month; that it came in like a lamb and now departs, a full grown lion.

I'm not so sure. Looks pretty nice here in West Michigan this morning. -A little cloudy, perhaps, but the sun is working it's way through and I'm trying to find a place to lay a bet on the, "no more significant snowfalls this year" side of the layout on some Clark Griswold run Internet gambling site. I may lose, but I know where my heart wants my money.

This week, as my old Jeep enters its last days of service - a front axle problem not worth fixing has popped up over the last week or so - I'm going to depend on my long honed ability to find a new old car. Don't really know what I'm looking for, but sure hope I know when I find it. Perhaps it'll jump out at me like a diamond in a pile of coal. It's about the last thing I want to deal with right now, but as Yoda might say, "your choices up with you catch." What? Sure he'd say that! -Just before he zaps off my head with his cute little light saber thingy.

Speaking of weird weapons... Sunday night as she and I sat on the couch, SweetLady's oldest, now fifteen, spent ten minutes describing and, in pantomime, demonstrating weapons he thinks ought to be available to superheros, gaming characters and, I'm pretty sure, himself. He's a funny kid. He envisions everything from your basic walking staffs transforming into magic elongated spears complete with special powers to maim and injure in indescribable ways, and small daggers that become magic whips dozens of feet long with the ability to zap one into oblivion with a simple, "crack".

His train of thought, that night anyway, I think, was born of his having been granted permission earlier in the day to demolish an old dishwasher in the back yard with a five pound maul. He'd smashed away with enthusiasm and aplomb, and not a little satisfaction, I think. He bashed it into many pieces which, happily, (since it was the goal behind the granted permission in the first place), allowed much more of it to fit into the trash container! Meanwhile, his cousin videotaped the whole shebang while providing commentary and, if I'm not mistaken - though I haven't seen it myself yet - it's probably available on youtube already.

Then, he kicked my butt video bowling. I blame the secret weapons.

Hmmm. Ya think he could use his magic powers to zap my Jeep's axle back into shape?

Be good to everyone.