I was thinking as I was up there on the ‘mill how once upon a time I played hooky.  In 9th grade I used to come home for lunch occasionally and the unfortunate thing was (I think I may have blogged about this before) turning on the TV.  At noon the soaps were on.  During the summer I got hooked on the things and so when school started I was in a withdrawal pattern.  If I came home for lunch and made the mistake of turning on the TV it was all over for me.  Frequently I couldn’t stand leaving as they always kept you hanging from one commercial to another.  (I was just turned 12 while in  the ninth grade so I didn’t have much sense).  Bottom line was, too many times I stayed and watched all the way thru the afternoon.  Half a day at school on those days, and a written by me excuse for the absence.  One day I found out to my horror that I pulled that stunt one too many times. 

 I came home from school and there was a letter on the floor (mail slot in the door) from..GASP…the return address was the High School.  I tried everything I had read about to open it without it showing  that it had been opened and none of those things  I had read about worked.  (the old steaming it open thing among others).  I held it up trying to read thru the envelope.  Just saw my name and a few words that caused great guilty alarm.  I hid the letter ultimately without opening it.  However, I did not count on the phone.  Rats.  One afternoon not long after the letter the phone rang and my brother answered.  It was the Office at the high school telling on me.  Turns out my neighbor across the street (never did like her…then I saw why!) called the school and told them I was playing hooky. That got them to pouring over my notes I wrote pretending to be Dad.  Suffice it to say, that was the end of my career watching soaps instead of going to school.  I was caught and hung out to dry!  My grades were great..that was all that saved me.

Yesterday, I saw a beautiful Corvette in front of me on the main road through town. It was a scrumptious shade of..not sure what to call it.  Not red..not plum..not deep dark orange..I can’t find a way to describe it and I’m a woman!  You know we  women generally know every subtle nuance of color.  It had a stone colored (light tan to you men out there) rag top.  But what also caught my eye was the license plate.  It said EZ2CYIO.  Now that was a good one!

So..I need to get cracking and go out.  The usual people to annoy.