Our granddaughter, Kianna, will be 1 year old in 24 days. This post from the Journal archives relives the “Countdown to Kianna” and gives an insight into my first stab at fiction writing.
Incidentally, my little Princess Kianna has been terribly sick for five days but seems to be turning the corner. Some sort of nasty virus, apparently.
She knows she can call at any time and Grandpa will be there was fast as Grammy can drive, which is faster than Grandpa. And Friday morning she did call. Our Kianna was toting around her momma’s phone (our daughter, Princess Kishia) and somehow dialed the last number called. I didn’t answer in time, but I got a beautiful voice mail from sweet little Kianna. It might sound like rambling gibberish, but the translation is, “I love you, Grandpa.” Really.
First for this commercial message, Countdown to Kianna. Twenty-nine days to delivery, Feb. 19, exactly one week before Kishia’s 27th birthday. Not sure which makes me feel older: 29 days away from changing my name to Grandpa or having a 27-year-old daughter. Sunday is set aside for baking cookies for Kishia’s baby shower next Saturday. I’m also told that planning for the mother of all baby shower cakes (a la my esteemed editor and consummate cake-baker Lora Wegman) occurs tomorrow/Sunday.
Now … what about “The Fleas”?
Channel 13 in Jefferson City (KRCG) showed scary movies at 10:30 p.m. every Friday back in the day (early to mid-1970s). My buddies and I especially enjoyed Frogs,Night of the Lepus, Mothra, The Black Scorpion … it was a long list of mostly really awful and not-all-that-scary movies. (However, “Frogs” was downright creepy and basically established the standard for the revenge-of-nature genre. And Sam Elliott is…
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