Jenny's slug and my almost heart attack
Jenny has a slug. No, that's not code for another boyfriend. At least I don't think so. Her text message said, "I have a nasty slug living in my water heater closet." Of course, I could be naive. Nah. I don't think so. At least not about that. In our text conversation, she told me she had a slug. I told her I needed to blog. She told me to mention her slug. So, there. Jenny, this blog is dedicated to you. Goodness knows I don't know what else I planned to blog about. I'm kind of in a funk to tell you the truth. Sudden change in subject. As I was typing this blog, I looked over at my phone and it was showing a new number on the Caller ID. I hit it to see who it was. What I see is **** ***** = the Timmy the Fly residence. I freaked out. I call "Rebekah" in utter panic. She assures me that it was his mom calling to ask people to bring snacks to a church gathering and that Timmy the Fly would have called from his cell. Good to know. I was...