Hello, again. It's finally April and, as I've said before, we can look forward to the opening of garden centers soon. It's time to dust off the tools and get ready to put winter gear in storage for another year. It's been a great month for Mike and Deanna except for something I'll mention later. That's because I want to get the good news out of the way first this time. Not only did they have a great vacation down South, as I know they've already explained to you, but they're making great headway with Robin. Not only have they found him a tutor and therapist here, he's also started to pick up sign language. I know that wouldn't please the reason that they have to invest in a good security system all that much but his well-being and his future was never up to her so Elly can go pound sand in a rat-hole for all I care. Deanna's belly-dancing seems to be going well and they've finally invested in a slow cooker and crockpot so as to make mealtime easier on each other. It's a good thing that the two of them squirreled away all that money when he was at Portrait (not, of course, that they let on -- hearing the speech I always used to give about how their finances were nobody's business but theirs repeated back to me was that odd thing called a humbling reassurance) for emergencies; given the soft economy and Robin's health, they need every penny. I think his third, semi-autobiographical book might actually do better than his first two; writing from the heart is always better than writing from the swipe file. April's studies are going well and we hope to hear some good news from that front as well.
Now to the only dark cloud on the horizon: Elly. You see, April was out with friends and Wilf and I had Merrie and Robin over so that Mike and Deanna could have some privacy. Sadly, I wasn't actually even shocked to be told that Elly barged in on them in the midst of what Milboroughites still call going roadside and started screaming like a banshee about the evil child molester trying to touch poor little Mikey where he makes sissy. Needless to say, the police aren't going to follow Elly's complaint and Mike would rather buy an alarm than subject her to more public embarrassment. John, sadly, is no help; he made some stupid crack about something train-related and went back to being useless. Liz, who's got a baby on the way and a husband she's sort of finally learning to tolerate, agreed that not pressing charges was the best course for now. Things in Vancouver are a little brighter now that she's stopped blaming Anthony for what the locals call the Going-After. She said something cryptic about justice being served and asked me if nobody would mind if they named their son after her ailing grandfather; that was kind of nice of her.
She also seemed to think that Mike and Deanna's choice of a house-sitter was appropriate; granted, I wouldn't have said "It's a good thing she speaks fluent lunatic; that way, she's ready for my parents" out loud but then I'm not trying to break a lifetime habit of bottling up my emotions.
Anyway, I've got to cut this short; the spring bulbs aren't going to plant themselves. I'll let you know what happens with Deanna, Mike and the others next month; until then,