We tried and tried to get ahold of Rodney, but the line at the hotel was, oddly, always busy. We went to a rather neat store called "Coolections" that sold mostly comics, gaming material, and collectible figures and toys, but upstairs they had a black light miniature golf course. Yes, it was completely lit with black light and painted round the edges and all the barriers painted in black light paint so it glowed. Cool.

James was starting to crash, so we figured we couldn't wait for supper any longer. We went to the Moonlite barbecue place and I kept phoning Rodney, but kept getting a busy signal. The restaurant was quite busy, but we got in immediately. The food was quite good. I enjoyed the mutton barbecue, but I'm afraid pulled pork will always be my first love.

As we got done with dinner, I suggested to James that we go to Rodney's hotel, which was a few exits down on the freeway. I thought we could leave him a note, or perhaps find him there. Well, just as we were passing the hotel (we overshot the exit), Rodney called. The thunderstorm we had had earlier had knocked out the telephones and the hotel had just discovered the fact. If you called in, the line was always busy, and if you called out, just the same. He never got the two voicemails I'd managed to leave, either.

Well, guess where he was. Yes, at our hotel. So we got together, and he still hadn't eaten, so we were going out when I noticed that Schuyler was scratching herself quite frantically. I won't go into all the details, but I finally told Rodney he should go off to eat. I'm still not sure what is wrong. She has done this before, and it's usually a feather that won't come loose. But I noticed she hadn't had any droppings in a while. I was worried about her and I rather flipped out for a while.

I think she's all right. We'll see in the morning. There are vets around, but I don't want her to be sick.

Labels: events

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 11:30:00 PM

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