Dear Mister Ed

‘you mind that old sayin’ about how evry body I know is nuts ‘scept you and me, and I aint so sure about you?

Thats kinda how it is on the home front these days.

Take Maisy fer one. She never was that normal at the best of times, speshully back when she was into the barlycorn at the first lite of day.

Thank goodness that dont happen anymores, but what its done is leave’er with too much time and not enuff bizzy work to keep ‘er outta mischiff, if you know what I mean.

So it was’nt that bad of a thing when she cooked up the noshun to get evryone to woof down apple pies to save the poor farmers. Lord knows I and Walt was willin’ to do what we cud on the eatin’ end of things.

But Maisy dont get the consept of there bein’ too much of a good thing. Delishus as her apple pies mite be, twice a day evry day is kinda pushin’ things.

Fact is I’m full up to here with brown shugar and sinnamon and thinkin’ it may be time fer the apple growers to find a new line of work.

Its got so bad I mite even be willin’ to choke down a peace of rhoobarb pie jest to warsh out my taste bulbs.

Then theres Eva. Bein’ in the larva stage of becomin’ a pollitishun, shes got lotsa fanssy noshuns on how to save the world from its self.

Shes even managed to hussle up some folks that are willin’ to run fer the Gray Party iffen when the primed minnister says hes had enuff.

Theres one feller in Allberta that wants to sell the parlament house and do away with taxes, and a womman in Saskatchawon that wants guvamint to take over all the banks and fitness scenters.

A guy from Cameloops is pushin’ the marrawanna plant as Canadas nashunal emblum, and an old teacher from Ontaryo wants Esparranto as our offishul langwidge.

Three peepul from Down East wanta be in parlament to make jobs fer there kinfolks, and a cuppla folks in the Youcon are sayin’ they mite run, but ownly if the party aint an ackshual party.

There was even a geezer named Paul Hellier that useta hang out with the Troodo crowd, who told Eva hes allways lookin’ fer a new party.

But she aint too keen on that one, seein’ as he claims to be callin’ from a UFO pad somewheres in Allberta.

“Mite jest as well wait till I hear from Willy MaKenzie King” is how she put it.

The other one whose gone a tad outta kilter hereabouts is Unkle Walt. All on a sudden hes took up what he calls the manley art of nittin’ and pearlin’. Tell you more on that later.

I dont say nothin’, jest keep my head down and tend my garden. Say what you like to a raddish, it dont give you no back-sass.

Yer pal,

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