So Mojo was late for an appointment (not REALLY late, but Mojo Late, which means she might get there only TEN MINUTES EARLY instead of her usual fifteen or so) so she jumps in the car and heads down the mountain to civilization.

One of the many things about living far, far away from other people is, if you are late to go ANYWHERE, you have the added burden of an additional half hour tacked onto your time, which can work FOR or AGAINST you. If the roads are clear of other pesky drivers you can make up the odd five minutes or so by screeching around the mountain passes like Mario Andretti. But if you get behind a school bus or a turtle, it will easily add another fifteen or twenty minutes to your commute. There is NO PLACE TO PASS, even if the other driver is aware of you and trying to pull over to be nice.

So anyway, I have this appointment to get my Favorite Husband's car serviced, and running just a hair late, so I jump in said car and screech out of the driveway. And a quarter of a mile into the trip I come to a screeching halt as a family of woodcocks are occupying the street, perhaps in protest of Mojo's screeching around in her car. (Note to Mojo's Favorite Mother: No, she is NOT actually screeching. She is Exaggerating for Comic Effect.)

As much as Mojo likes to pretend she's on top of things and totally, uh, "hep", the sad, sorry fact is, she's pretty clueless and tends to receive much of her information well after the fact. Like from my Favorite Mother. You just KNOW when your mother is talking about stuff from the internet it means the rest of the world jumped on the cluetrain about a year ago--okay, Mom, so it's not that bad; I keed, I keed--so when you first hear of something because your mother is discussing it in a knowledgeable fashion Mojo sez it's time to face the Cold Hard Facts and admit that Mojo Isn't As Brilliant Sometimes As She Is Oh-So-Certain She Is.

But today I can scream Triumph--of a personal nature, not of a rubber dog puppet nature--for I am officially on the Cutting Edge. Through the back door, perhaps, but hey, Mojo is not so proud that she will not clutch desperately at the straws swirling about her drowning head.  MORE Mojo! »

Nearly every early summer since we moved up here, I've passed this fairly large snapping turtle laying her eggs right on the side of the road. The first year I was all like, wow, cool; the second year I was all like, hey, there she is again! and from then on I sort of looked forward to seeing her.

She's not the most giantest snapping turtle I've ever seen, but she's probably one and a half or two feet in diameter. A turtle to be reckoned with. I'm sure she could do some Major Damage should you annoy or disturb her.

And then these last two years I haven't seen her. Which made me sad. And think she's been killed or eaten or turned into turtle soup. Or all three.

So today in the pouring rain I am out taking the Deathtrap for its morning spin, and who do I see, but my old pal, laying eggs like she's been doing for heaven knows how long. And since Mojo's got her fancy-schmancy new cell phone, she stops and takes a picture. And then backs up and maneuvers the car closer so she can take a BETTER picture.

And that's when the Deathtrap decided to die again.  MORE Mojo! »