Go Annie! It's your birthday!

She turned the Big Four Five today,which she read somewhere is the Fudge birthday. Someone needs to get control of Wikipedia.

We're at a hunting camp in Georgia, where it is cicada season. Hunters everywhere, but their guns are so tiny! Really, we're alone on a great remote road. These bugs have been underground for thirteen years, long enough to be closeted. Be out, loud, and proud, you guys! I'll sleep when you're ... done talking. We drove up to I-20 to get some quiet.

But, guess who is nocturnal! And loves hunting camps! And can sing all night! And is looking for love! [Not a men's choir.] A whipoorwill. It would be great if the cicadas kept the birds awake all day, so we could ALL sleep tonight.

Some sputtering from the Duck just as we settled into our spot. Why would that start suddenly? Chugging and coughing. Ideas? We're a couple of miles down a dusty road, but nothing different otherwise.
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[All obscenities are my own and are not the product of AutoCorrect.]

Guests!

Our friends, MaryGail and Maria, want to go "camping" with us!  This is good!  The "camping" word comes from going someplace scenic and possibly not checking email.  Oh, and for our guests, it might mean sleeping on the sofa bed.  Unless we're overcome with gracious inclinations and we make our guests sleep on our bed, but then there's changing the sheets and c'mon!  But, they give us their bed when we stay up there ... oh man!  I'm filled with conflict.

Our hope is that all systems will be GO by the end of this month, and that we can provide hot showers and full toileting facilities.  Our other hope is that Maria and MaryGail's allergies can handle close quarters with two elderkittun. [Alert:  Blogger detects made-up word.]

In preparation, Annie is scoping out nearby "camping" facilities.  We're thinking maybe Sampson State Park, by Seneca Lake, or Treman.  Wait - she's been distracted by the new RoboCut with built-in vacuum!