home to the hamlet

Rosebud and Polly and I are traveling at breakneck speed over the Great Lakes.  469 miles per hour.  That is really fast.  I am not sure how fast that is in kilometers.  But I am actually not sure how fast that is in miles per hour, either.  Just know its fast.

I miss our noisy boys.  Huckleberry cried when I called him last night.  He wasn’t crying because he missed me, he was crying because the Professor was being mean.  But he was crying because he missed me.  Rosebud misses her boys.   She can hardly wait to get back to Canada to see them.  Of course, we never left Canada, but she is convinced we did.  Because it didn’t look like Canada.  Her Canada. Too much snow, not enough mountains.

She told me that she is addicted to her boys.  She saved all of her candies and pieces of hotel paper to give them when we get back to Canada this afternoon.

The Hamlet will smell good.