Elec-tricity, e-lec-tricity

Electricity, not unlike Mr. Steve on certain weeks, is lazy. We are fortunate that it is, though, because within its inherent laziness is a predictability humans have discovered allowing them to manipulate it for use in our homes and businesses through the aid of transistors, resistors, transformers, and deceptacons; without which, we would merely be tying keys to kite strings and flying them during lightning storms (Ben Franklin, why do you hate easily impressionable youth?) So while Mr. Steve was being lazy and not writing any new entries for you guys to snack on last week, electricity was being lazy and traveling through Mr Steve's hand into the floating basement slab of his early 20th century home on five separate occasions while he attempted to set up a temporary recording studio down there. Le ouch.
I spent the greater half of last week in vain attempts to actually get some music recorded at home thwarted by resistance from my faulty computer (which is now fixed thanks to my drummer, Mike, who diagnosed and repaired it after telling him only the percentage at which my CPU was currently running. My kung fu is pathetic compared to his.) and lack of resistance my human flesh provides in defense to electro-shock. In a nutshell, that is why I've had limited time to finish my homework of keeping you guys informed of my home work. Sorry, I'll try to make it up to you.

Over the weekend, we had the pleasure of traveling out to Nelsonville, OH (I can't believe you've never heard of it) with Zach and family to ride the famous Hocking Hills Scenic Railway for its special Memorial day run. How was it? Well...
I love poetry and so do Amelia and Zach. One of our favorites is "A Modern Dragon" by Rowena Bennett;

A train is a dragon who roars through the dark.
He wriggles his tail as he sends up a spark.
He pierces the night with his one yellow eye
And all the earth trembles as he rushes by.

When I read this poem to Zach way back when, I must have forgotten to preface it with the understanding that it is a metaphor and should not be taken literally. Convinced that every last one of us was doomed to be eaten by this giant iron beast we rode upon, Zachary wailed every time the horn blew for the entire start of our locomotive travel. The poor little guy was almost hoarse by the time we reached the train's first stop. Fortunately, at that time, they uncoupled the roaring head from the dragon's neck and re-attached it to its long tail putting the teeth of the dragon far enough away from Zach for him to finally get comfortable.
The next stop was an olde settlement complete with a blacksmith wearing an "I'm with stupid" shirt and a general store that sold prepackaged pickle parcels, candy, etc. Amelia was especially entranced by the town craft lady who made dolls out of wicker and wanted to stand there all day saying "bye" to her (she hasn't quite figured out that the words "hi" and "bye" are not interchangeable). I think the woman reminded her of grammie which is why she unexpectedly approached her. It's been a few months since she's seen her, so I'm sure Amelia is experiencing withdrawal...and vice versa.