Hidden Talents

Hello, friends and blogees.

I'm happy to report that Huckleberry Hound arrived home safely last night. I'm sure you didn't realize he was away, but indeed he was. You see, last week we, and when I say we I mean the mighty and feared B'burg Community Band, played a concert at a retirement home. Huckie went along to listen, and meet and greet, and he came away from the experience with a certain look in his eye. No, it wasn't distemper, it was wistfulness.

And that very night, he took off in the Huckiemobile to go visit his mom. Maw Hound.

I'll bet you didn't know Huck has his own car. It's a red 1958 Huckiemobile Extra. Two door. I'm not sure what the "extra" means, really, because its top speed is 25 mph. He has to leave very early when he goes on a trip. But it putts along just fine, and he's never been stranded alongside the road as far as I know.

So Huckie and Maw Hound had a lovely visit there under the porch in Alabama. Maw Hound has her own house, but the Hound Family Tradition has always been to meet and socialize under the front porch where its cooler. Huckie's cousin Boysenberry Hound came by for a day visit as well, he tends barn on a farm three or so hours away. Apparently there was much merriment, talk of old times, and food.

Yes, food. Oh, that's right. I'll bet you didn't know that, either. Huckleberry Hound is an excellent cook.

I found this out quite by mistake, actually. One night I was particularly tired, and Huckie announced he'd make dinner for me and The Boys, the other cartoon characters taking up residence here at The Pod. He made beans. I wasn't surprised. Huckleberry's a country dog, and he likes his beans. But they were excellent beans. After dinner I was thanking him and said, "You can make dinner any time you like."

Well!

Since then, he's made Welsh Rarebit, Filet of Sole with Tarragon Sauce, his Special Veal Meat Loaf, Spicy Vegetable Stew, and many other fancy dishes. His Potatoes au Gratin are to die for (as are his Home Fries), and he sometimes travels in the Huckiemobile to B'burg just to make lunch for Mr M. And oh, the times he's given that special touch to Fish Stick Night (Wednesdays) here for his fellow characters by making Peppered Salmon Sticks, Seared Tuna Sticks, or Lemon Mahi Mahi Sticks.

He also does a mean pot of mashed potatoes.

It's funny, really. I mean, we all know about Sherman and Peabody, that boy and dog team of many talents. Mr Peabody's a genius, a financial wizard, an inventor. He does yoga, and plays the flute (excellently) and the euphonium (not so much, but he gives it his all). Sherman can play the clarinet and the fiddle (which he learned since becoming a Hackensaw Boys fan), can do both of those while dancing. He's a top-notch gardener and is an expert in the field of crop development. Lest we forget the Shermanhead Melon, Shermanhead Squash, Shermanhead Carrot, and Shermanhead Peach. (He's got something near cultivation for this summer that will knock your socks off, too.) He once made a suspension bridge out of fudge, and can eat an entire chocolate cake by himself.

And so it is, as I often say, a happy little commune we have here, but also a talented one.

Did you know that Mr Peanut (who's still on the wagon and doing beautifully in his sobriety) can do magic tricks? Sometimes when things are a little slow around The Poderosa, someone will ask him to perform. He's produced numerous quarters out of Sherman's ear, pulled a rabbit out of his top hat, and once, to everyone's amazement, made Mr Peabody disappear. However, no one as yet has volunteered to be sawed in half. He swears he can do it, though. Mr Peanut is also an excellent dancer, showing us his skill in everything from the mashed potato to the soft shoe, once waltzed so beautifully with my Scooba Doo doll I thought Peabody was going to cry, and anyone who's seen his commercial knows he can even breakdance. He's also well-versed in the Social Graces, and makes sure everyone around here has excellent manners.

Good Luck Baby Lily is, well, yes, she's only a baby, but she's an excellent drawer and colorer. She makes sure every inch of the paper is filled in, and color coordinates very well. Her stick figures of The Boys are always recognizable, and she can draw, for some strange reason, amazingly accurate depictions of money. (Her five-dollar bill is exquisite.) She's also learning to play the flute (Peabody's teaching her), and does very well. She will also proudly tell you that she knows her state capitals, but please, if you decide to test her, ask her the capital of Virginia, because that's the only one she knows. She doesn't realize yet there are other states.

Quick Draw McGraw, who loves Huckie's beans more than any soul on earth, is quite the cowboy poet. All those years out west had their effect on him, and even now, when he's lonely, he'll sit in the corner with pen and paper, musing away. He was kind enough to let me publish one of his earlier works. It's called "Blazing Sun."

When morning comes and I arise
Sleep still heavy in my eyes
I look up into the blazing sun.
It's still early, but there's much to be done.
I have to walk the trail and herd
Alone, without a word
Sun still blazing on my back and mane.

Through dust and tumbleweeds I lope
Full of beans and hope
Hope that the western sky
Which is always beautiful to my eye
Will never lose its charm.

At the end of the day
And the end of my trail
I eat more beans
From my pail
And wait for tomorrow morning's blazing sun.

*sniff* Sorry, that one always gets to me.

Quick Draw is also an ace poker player (and I really didn't mean to use that rotten pun), and occasionally he, Huckie, Peabody, and Mr Peanut will get a rousing game of Five Card Draw going that lasts into the wee hours.

Gossamer can catch butterflies in mid-air, and knows the difference between a sneaker and a house shoe. Sherman proved this once in an experiment when he blindfolded Gossamer and tested him. Gossamer picked the house shoe nine times out of ten, and only missed on the tenth because some fuzz from the house shoe got on the sneaker. This comes in handy for me, because I don't so much mind when he eats my house shoes. I seldom wear them. I get a little irritated when he starts in on the sneakers, though.

The newest member of The Poderosa commune is of course Che Guellama, the llama who delivered Mr M's clarinet from Chile and decided not to go home, at least for the forseeable future. He's still settling in, but is doing nicely, and we've discovered that he can flamenco dance like nobody's business. He does this in the kitchen, where there's no carpet, often at startlingly early hours of the morning. He's also, I guess due to his vocation, an excellent fetcher. Whenever I need something in the house, I just mention it, and he's away and back with my item in no time. Not long after his arrival I was at my desk and mentioned I needed a pen, and off he went, coming back with a safety pin. I summed this up as a mistake anyone could make, but I'm now realizing his lack of English skills are worse than I thought. I asked for a flashlight and was brought an ashtray, said I needed some thread and was brought a coat hanger, and mentioned I'd like a glass of water and was handed and olive and a toothbrush. He's very eager to please, though. He's a nice llama.

So there you have it. Hidden talents of The Boys. Stop by sometime, we'll give you a show.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* I don't know how to sow grass. I did it today, on my afternoon off, but I don't know how. I feel a very brown summer ahead.