The recession has hit home. Over at Mort's Diner, they say that not only is business down but folks are finishing up their cole slaw.
Otherwise, all's normal. Aunt Cora's been making the rounds of the spring tag sales, stocking up on items for her summer tag sale.
Pa's been complaining about the upcoming hike in postal rates. "It's finally happened," he said, "a first class stamp is too valuable to risk sending through the mail."
Ma's wondering, "Is it my imagination, or does shipping and handling settle a box of crackers more than it used to?"
Granddad's been recalling the days when you could make it from car to kitchen before the grocery bag disintegrated. Back then, he says, they made everything double-strength and didn't even know it.
Grandma observes that she has never photographed well and lately hasn't been reflecting all that well in mirrors.
Over at Alf's Used Car Mecca they're advertising a 5-star beaut that was last owned by a doctor who used it only on house calls.
At town hall, they're debating whether to do a two-a-day pickup on the 911 P.O. Box.
Meanwhile, Junior came home from school all glum-faced to say, "I lost the spelling cee."
Cousin Ben reports that wife Maebelle's crash diet is advancing steadily through the planning stages.
Aunt Rose reports that she's stopped buying outfits she plans to diet into -- says the skeleton in her closet is completely outfitted.
The regulars over at the general store pooled wits and came up with an idea. Name the season's first hurricane Zelda and fool Mother Nature into calling it a year.
Aunt Cora says Uncle Hank is almost to the stage where he can point and click without moving his lips.
And Zack Wormsley reports that his 1:00 PM flight out of County Airport took off a 3:45, listed ON TIME. Said Zack, "I guess they reckon one is a quarter of four."
-- Robert Brault