Rainy screens and snare drum whisper screams

While today was pretty dry in the midst of all kinds of recent precipitation, we woke up to window screens full of rain and distorted views. Since we are now rendered defenseless without our resident canine alarm, we are subject to the alarm of our poor, neglected neighbor dog. She has a scary bark and uses it both expertly and frequently, much to the neighborhood's chagrin. So one can imagine that when her bark starts in an almost rabid frenzy, we run to the window to see who or what kerfuffle is happening out in the street. With rainy screens, it is pretty much a vain attempt to see what might be going down in the hood, so we take to the phone...kind of like this:



Luckily for us, the source activating the dog alarm was simply a man in a NASCAR hat walking around with his little tiny dog. An unlikely threat. After calming the three worry warts of the ranch, we dined on a very unexciting breakfast and headed to the music store to pick up the newest baby in our little family. Of course, the neverending construction on the Henley Street bridge turned our trip into a long and harrowing treasure hunt, one that ended with us turning around in a thrift shop parking lot, which prompted us all to start singing the highly entertaining and inappropriate "I'm gonna pop some tags only got $20 in my pocket...". No, I do not let them hear the real version. Give me some credit. We finally got to the store to find our treasure which I ended up paying for, sooooo, I guess it is not really accurate to call it a treasure hunt. Semantics, I guess. Anyway, we got home with this little beauty:




S, her teacher, her dad and I have been waiting a long time for this little beauty. As soon as we walked in the door that thing was out and making noise throughout the house. Paradiddles and flams were being practiced with great gusto. Each time they stopped, a loud "Shhhh" came from the other room. She would do some more flams and "SHHhhhh" and then a few more paradiddles and "SHHHHHHH!!!!". "Stop whisper screaming at me in there!", she said with great annoyance. Tune it out or get over it kids. I learned that growing up with a percussionist for a brother.

Not much else to say friends. I live in a live action Far Side comic with whisper screamers. The excitement never ends.
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