. . . and there was the smart one whose mind freely, but sensibly, roams the planet.

“I want to be on a boat and make new friends and drink wine,” my mother said. “We can share our love of flowers and hats with everyone. If it’s a small group, hats for all! We’ll add tiny penguins and polar bears and octopus!”

Hats and flowers and wine, that’s my mom.

“So,” my mother said, turning to her sisters, “back to the pot cookies for the chief. I’ll create a scrumptious recipe, and we’ll see how they taste.”

Hats, flowers, wine, and pot. Unbelievable. “I can’t believe this.” This conversation was making me eat another chocolate croissant. Butch put his nose up to Mars’s nose. Mars meowed. “You three are going to end up in orange jumpsuits.”

“Then we’ll make orange hats!” my mother announced.

“We’ll wear orange panties!” Aunt Camellia said. “We’ll embroider ‘Jail Birdies’ on the butts.”

“We’ll use the time in jail to study history,” Aunt Iris said. “Look back. All the answers you need in life can be found in history.”

They are in their seventies.

They are breaking the law.

They are going to make pot cookies for the chief of police.

Sundance barked. He thought this was funny, I could tell. Butch and Cassidy licked the aunts’ hands.

Those dogs were irritating sometimes.

* * *

I picked up the stack of books that Venus knocked over, then studied my books.

Literary friends, all of them. I even had a library card catalog!

But it was getting a tad out of control.... I probably was a book hoarder.

* * *

“I have the food worked out for the wedding. I talked to Mom and Aunt Camellia and Aunt Iris about it last night,” Jules said. With one hand I held my cell phone and with the other I pet Alpaca Joe and Virginia Alpaca. Alpaca Joe spit. “Don’t do that, Alpaca Joe.” He spit again.

The sky was cloudless, blue as blue can be, the ocean lapping at the edge of our property. Behind me were rows of bearded irises. The huge type. The type that look like they are the queens of all the flowers of the world. Sundance stood right by me, Lizard in his mouth, Butch and Cassidy barking as they ran around the property. Ghost was walking along the goats’ fence. I don’t know why. She likes to do that sometimes.

“What are we eating?” I asked.

“All American food: Barbeque!”

Barbeque. Yum. “I love barbeque.”

“I can’t stand any of those fluffy, silly, fancy meals that people serve at weddings. Everyone’s starving after the ceremony. So we’re having ribs! Corn on the cob. Potatoes with sour cream. French bread. Plus, hamburgers, too. So you can have ribs and burgers.”

“Sounds delicious.” Casual food for a casual, loving ceremony. Everyone would love it.