I’m at Mikelle’s.

I woke up at 4:30, padded around the apartment, looked at the pictures on her walls, looked for something to read, used the bathroom, went back to bed at 4:45.

At 5:46 the cell phone rang and Tracy was screaming something and was all but hysterical. I tried to gather my wits and really concentrate on what she was saying screaming. She and her two daughters and two of their friends left Idaho Falls at four something in order to get to SLC for a dentist appointment and their wonderful adventure of seeing Fiddler on the Roof. But somewhere near Black Foot they hit something. Or rather, something hit them! She said something huge and black came out of no where and flew into their Suburban. It was gigantic and had a wing span the width of the car! She thought it was going to hit her windshield but instead lodged itself in the radiator grill. I’m sure she was screaming her head off at this point as well as the four over-exited and sleepless silly girls.

She called hubby, Richard, who told her she had to stop and get it out of the radiator in case it broke something and they’d be out of fluid soon. She still had a three-hour drive to SLC and really needed to get it off. More screaming going on at the thought of actually touching the intruder, I’m sure. Instead she woke up friends in Pocatello, Tina and Rob, and somehow they peeled the creature off the front of the car. A great horned ***.

Apparently it’s a federal offense to kill a great horned ***. So I can only surmise it is also a federal offense to blog about killing a great horned ***, thus the sneaky attempt at subterfuge in my writing ‘***.’ [Apparently not a federal offense for the great horned *** to fly into you and scare the living jello out of everyone.]

I’m guessing the *** had just gorged itself on some road kill [which ironically it had now become!] and was unable to get air-born. Feeling a little draggy and thought it would fly about four feet off the ground on the interstate.


Just one more prime example of why Tracy should write a book! Move over Ralph Moody.