Feeling bouncy

Last week I read a children's book called something like (A name that starts with C) Goes Out West and (Something about a purple horse). Sorry, I don't remember the title. It started out with the main character, a pig, eating seven flapjacks and some other stuff for breakfast, and then feeling bouncy. My friend, whose daughter I was reading that book to, and I laughed. I have a feeling seven flapjacks would leave me sluggish, or full, or just about anything but bouncy.

So, I just ate about an entire bucket of Ritz.

It's interesting the things we remember. In response to the comments on yesterday's post:
Yeah, those are my favorite Autumn memories, too. Fortune telling, pencils, and marbles. I still have my pencil collection. It's too grand and beautiful to get rid of. Although I think I may have lost track of all the logs and charts and maps that went with it. Like the lists of each pencil's name, and family, and occupation. And where he or she lived in pencil town. And who won which beauty contest. And that same Marble Works set is still at my mom's house. Although, yes, it's sad - it's not the same house with that huge playroom and backyard where we used to play. As for the matches... I'm guessing my mom never knew. I don't think she would have liked it if she did.

For all of you who were holding your breath, wondering if I'd get that paper written, wondering if I'd survive in one piece... it looks like I will. First draft is all done. Huge pat on the back for me.