In 1941, Joseph Millard wrote a story titled "The Gods Hate Kansas," a plot summary of which you may read here. I don’t know about meteors, but I just spent the last week in Kansas, during which the gods bombarded the state with August temperatures — 104, 105, 108 — yeah, like that. We ate a lot of ice cream and took a lot of naps, my sister and I. Her husband played a lot of cards at the American Legion hall, and her son, poor boy, worked every day (the rest of us were on vacation).
Ricky went with me. That dog is a good traveler — just sleeps until he hears the word "walk." He was also well-behaved in the house, despite the fact that my nephew fed him from the table (forbidden in my house), and he was appropriately cute and silly (the dog. And sometimes the nephew, too). My BIL doesn’t believe in indoor pets, so I was hoping that Ricky wouldn’t do anything to violate the man’s sufferance.*
Other evidence that the gods meddle in Kansas is also available. Remember my ignoble but not unexpected, multiple Scrabble defeats at xmas? Well, on Friday, July 21, 2006, the stars aligned or something and I. Won. Twice. This is big stuff in my family. I even accomplished two things for the first time: I used all seven letters and I broke 300. Of course, the next day the universe returned to normal and I lost, lost, lost. My sis not only used all seven letters several times, but once she managed to cover TWO triple word scores with the same word. The bitch (that’s 12 points, right there). **
*Ricky did, while playing with the hose, spray water all over my BIL, but the man can’t bring himself to consider a mere dog capable of doing such a thing on purpose. I, on the other hand, gave the dog a treat immediately.
**According to Pholph’s Scrabble Score Generator.