Frank Island

Arriving home in California for only the second trip back in 5 months, Carrie and I entered the house with some trepidation.  Our twenty-something children have been staying here in our absence and “taking care of things” for us on the home front.  Things were pretty well in order.  Even the garage was clean.  Our only complaint was that the mail had not been sorted, and at least reviewed, to see if anything needed our attention while we were gone.  Carrie gets most of the bills paid electronically from the boat, but we knew there would some things the kids were going to have to forward to us. Well, that didn’t happen.  There was a tax bill that we missed a deadline on at a penalty of $350, another bill that had been around so long that it had gone to collection and three unpaid phone bills.  I’m surprised the phone hadn’t been disconnected.  Oh well, as my friend Henrietta noted when I was complaining about this, “If that’s the biggest problem you have at the house, it is pretty inconsequential in the big scheme of things.”  She’s right.

The aforementioned mail was stacked in a huge pile on the kitchen island and took us about an hour to go through and sort.  Just as we thought we had seen it all, a very interesting postcard dropped out from between a couple of pieces of junk mail.  Purportedly it is from an organization in Canada, notifying me of…well, take a look for yourselves.

Yes, some devious, demented, twisted, warped Canadian mind has been at work.  (I know, that is a redundant description, saying “Canadian mind” alone would have inferred the other adjectives).  It could be any one of my new Canadian “friends”, however, I know the whereabouts of Something Special and TerriMar on the date this card was mailed from Canada, and that (probably) eliminates them as suspects.  So…we will be doing a thorough handwriting analysis of a certain document we have on Once Around when we return, which should either eliminate (or be evidence of the guilt of) one of the two other possible unsubs.

Just when I thought I had conquered my arocknephobia, I received this card and I am now back in treatment.  The Admiral told me to quit whining and follow the directions on the card.  Evidently she likes the idea of my buying my way out by giving her a new rock.

I’m considering it.