Hello, again. It's been a fairly hectic month for me and Wilf; not only did Sean break an ankle tobogganing (well, not so much on the toboggan; the city didn't get the sidewalks done and he slipped and fell walking home) and scare Andrea and Jeff, things have taken a rather sinister turn at the Tiny Train House. As April probably told you, Mike made a nasty discovery slightly after Saint Valentine's Day; Elly was not only playing cruel pranks on their dog Edgar, she was starving the poor old fellow out of lunatic spite. John was, of course, no help; he thought it was hilarious that Elly was so obsessed with pretending to clean, she piled old pet food in a closet to attract insects and rats. Suffice to say, the 'joke' was lost on Mike. Then again, animal cruelty isn't all that funny. This tied with Robin's poor progress as most distressing thing of the month; his career woes took second place. He was briefly disappointed that he isn't invited to DragonCon this year; not because he can't pitch the sci-fi novel but because it messed up the family vacation schedule. Trying to work things out for the five of them is a bit tricky now and he was looking forward to taking everyone to Atlanta after his back surgery. In any event, it's full steam ahead for his course work; in this economy, taking shelter in the groves of academia seems a prudent choice.
Anyway, to get back to Robin, his latest test results proved to be a bit of a setback; now that he's been diagnosed as having verbal dyslexia, he's been declared developmentally delayed. Ah, well; at least he has parents that are in there pitching. Connie Poirier made a nasty-but-truthful crack about how Elly would stand there trying to cure him by shouting and flapping her arms. It seems to me that they've ignored the ADD Liz appears to suffer from. I know she didn't intend to forget Francoise's birthday but ever since what everyone calls the going-after, her ability to perceive time has suffered a lot. Blaming her gormless twit husband isn't the cure-all she thinks it is; he's a whiny, self-absorbed jerk, of course, but he isn't half as jerky as she's convinced herself he is. He's Cliff Clavin, not Frank Burns, for cripes' sake. April is right to be impatient with her; so far as I know, the only treatment Liz seems to want is to find a way to blame Anthony.
On to cheerier news, now. Dee's making great progress as a belly dancer and making a lot of interesting friends. She might even segue into participating in Renaissance Faires in the near future. That'll help her blow off steam in a way that pretending she's Martha Stewart never could. Meredith is also doing well in her riding lessons as she'll soon tell you.
Anyway, that's it for this look at Milborough. Let's hope that Elly doesn't do something even more criminal and selfish this month; we certainly don't need that. In any event, I'll tell you what happened.