Another Fine Mess You’ve Gotten Me Into, Loolie

So here I am, in the basement on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, ironing paper bags and tissue paper. I checked my list of ‘Wonderful Things to Do on a Holiday Weekend,’ and you know what?

This activity did not appear. Not even as the 159th entry. Thank you, Loolie.

She’s a madwoman, our Loolie. I have known her since we were both yea high–well, she was always just a yea bit high-er–and it’s always been the same. Loolie reads something or hears something and thinks, ‘Well that’s not right. We have to fix that!’

And suddenly there’s this whirlwind gusting through my life.

I say, “Oh, no, Loolie. Not this time. This time you are ON YOUR OWN! I am not going to [fill in the blank.] No way!”

But whirlwinds don’t just clear their own path, they suck in all kinds of things–and people—lying innocently tangential.

So…