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I rarely have a clear idea how these projects of mine will turn out. I merely select a trajectory and let fly. |
| As I drove through the parade, however, I turned to my companions and told them that this project turned out exactly as I had envisioned. For the duration of the parade, I couldn't stop grinning. (Afterwards, my face actually ached.) |
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As we drove the parade route, you could tell by the reaction of the crowd exactly when they'd spotted us. The archetypal power of Whipped Cream & Other Delights worked its magic. "Once again," Lady Kathy said to me, "you've put your finger right on the pulse."
I don't know about that, but I do know that as for my pulse, it was racing! |
| Houston punks cheer for Ben, the honorary rubber rat glued to the spot where we first saw the rat in my car. (The rubber rat was snagged by Burford from a pile of toys donated to the Caravan at the children's hospital in Albuquerque. The mechanic's name tag was from the used uniform store where Burford and I got our Cream Team pit crew jumpers.) |
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