@Cerridwyn I figure my opportunity will be in the fall sometime.
People just have no concept of the scale of trying to vaccinate 300+ million people. And fucking it up as only 'Murica can fuck things up, as we have seen so far, in comparison to the rest of the world.
I’m certain there will be hordes of self-entitled Karens and Kyles trying to jump the line.
at least not yet, sohmageek. pay attention and talk to your physician closer to when your spot comes up.
and oh- it hurts like hell. worst vaccine i have ever had. one of our staff who did mission work and has had a lot of vaccines before said it was worse than the typhoid one.
but damn, it’s worth it
@Cerridwyn@mike808 we will see. I’m not an antivaxer. I support vaccines. But I am unfortunately one that usually has more severe side effects from vaccines. I had seizures from one part of mmr as a kid so they stopped giving me that part. Ended up with whooping cough as a teen. I got the flu vaccine twice (one they no longer used eggs in it as I have a history of anaphylactic reactions to eggs). So. Until it’s cleared by more than the cdc. It’s not a vaccine for me to get.
@Cerridwyn@mike808@PooltoyWolf I really wish those names hadn’t gotten co-opted that way - it’s so unfair, and so far I haven’t seen any stories where the people acting like entitled assholes were actually named Karen or Kyle! (I am not named Karen, just to be clear - but I do have a friend with that name.)
@Cerridwyn@mike808@PooltoyWolf Well, yeah - my actual name has been a part of some negative things over the years, but not quite so specifically and intensely. The Mikey Life cereal ads weren’t that mean.
@mehcuda67 I don’t care about getting it. I go to Kroger every two weeks and it’s abandoned at like 10 at night. All the staff and I have our masks I admit I’m kinda pissed off at the people I see in there with no mask despite the state wide order and the sign on the door. And no one kicking them out but morons be morons.
I def don’t need a spot in the vaccine queue. Elderly/emergency workers/teachers if they are keeping schools open def do. I never went anywhere in the first place
Rush Limbaugh. Rest in Peace.
He died following a fight with stage 4 Lung Cancer.
Limbaugh is considered one of the most influential media figures in American history and has played a consequential role in conservative politics since “The Rush Limbaugh Show” began in 1988. Perched behind his Golden EIB (Excellence in Broadcasting) Microphone, Limbaugh spent over three decades as arguably both the most beloved and polarizing person in American media.
@daveinwarsh WLS was doing a multi-hour memorial for him today. Among other things he is credited as the likely savior of commercial AM radio in the country; his show, by itself and then later as stations that carried his show started putting compatible shows before and after, likely saved a lot of stations and small networks.
I also remember the ‘Rush Rooms’ they discussed that were opened in restaurants and bars across the country; often ‘quiet’ places that were not busy during the mid-day would play his show live and started getting massive lunch crowds which certainly helped those places out. This was before significant internet options for streaming and alternate means of listening.
Rest in peace, Rush. Your talent on loan from God has been returned with, I think, significant interest.
I remember Limbaugh’s “AIDS Update,” a recurring segment in which he made jokes about a disease that had killed more than 100,000 people in the United States the previous decade, started by playing songs such as “Back in the Saddle Again,” “Kiss Him Goodbye,” “I Know I’ll Never Love This Way Again,” and “Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places.”
What I don’t remember? Limbaugh ever stopping the near-constant stream of airing other vile, homophobic and xenophobic/racist content.
Limbaugh, for example, had another segment that used former Congressman Barney Frank, a prominent gay politician, as fodder. That segment featured the song “My Boy Lollipop” as slurping sounds played in the background. Limbaugh also spread the unfounded claim that gay men practiced “gerbilling” and once said, according to James Retter’s book “The Anatomy of a Scandal,” that gay men “deserved their fate.”
Perhaps America will be a better place for all of us, now that he’s reached room temperature.
I think this is a pretty solid and interesting piece on Rush. I am a bit younger than David French, but my experience was largely the same. Listened in the nineties, thought he was funny and edgy, stopped because I was busy during his broadcast hours, and was surprised when he went all in for President Trump.
Considering Limbaugh’s bullying conduct, constant intellectual dishonesty, and deliberate and constant use of known-false “info”: I’d say French goes pretty soft on Limbaugh in that article. As tho French were half a dittohead himself, and regretted the need to grow past that.
Nostalgia for when cheering hot but vacuous slogans, putdowns, comebacks, and goading the “other side” with garbage were “enough” (or almost enough) for French’s younger self?
@f00l@sohmageek They’ve been downhill for years already, and I’ll be honest – I figured they would have closed many many months ago. This was early 2020:
The Fry’s Electronics of the mid-1990’s through the 2000’s – yes, those are the memories, and I’ve spent a lot of time and money there back then. I’d sooner rather forget the Fry’s of the 2010’s onwards, however.
I lived in the South and Midwest, so Circuit City and “The Shack” (not Shake Shack, since we didn’t have those either) were where we had to get our nerd on.
Now, I am fortunate to have a Microcenter nearby. And we have a Shake Shack.
It just sucks that I now have to order stuff that comes with a huge carbon footprint and oppresses a stranger for delivery to make Bezos and big stock holders richer instead of Steve, the cool kid who worked at CC and spent his paltry earnings hanging out with us at the Comics/DnD (Dungeons and Dragons) boardgames store.
RIP Fry’s, Circuit City, Radio Shack.
And all the Steves who won’t grow up to make a fortune mining bitcoin in their basement or become rocket surgeons.
I’m from DFW so growing up I knew people who worked at radio shack at all levels from stock kid to in the executive suite.
Everybody got out before it all got really bad but it broke my heart when they went and died.
I used to have this tube tester light up device that was almost as big as a pinball table from RadioShack, that I gotten at a crazy sale they had of their store infrastructure when they closed one store and opened another more modern one
Unfortunately my wonderful tube tester got stolen or something it’s gone now a decade or more and I can’t remember exactly how it vanished.
@Kyeh My last boombox fell off a shelf and broke too badly to try to repair, but the tape drive was already nonfunctional. Panasonic RX-C53 with the cool flat panel speakers. Used it a lot back then. It came from a Service Merchandise store. Still miss those stores too.
@duodec Oh, too bad - the prices people are asking on Ebay for equipment like that are crazy.
I think I bought a fondue set (how’s that for a blast from the past - remember when people bought those?) from a Service Merchandise store that was going out of business. I thought the system they had for ordering on a clipboard was odd, but it’s actually a bit like what we’ve been doing during these pandemic times, only on a screen instead of a clipboard!
I so have a few audiobooks on cassette. Harry Potter and some others I think.
I perhaps keep them for nostalgia?
Before cd’s and in their early days,I slightly preferred audiobooks on cassette (in spire of having to keep track of so many cassettes for each book; I didn’t do abridged books much) I could control the rew/ff w cassettes, instead of having to jump forward or back for an entire “track”.
But then I got my first IPod, and of course ripping from cassette is a painful re-recording, whereas ripping from Cd is a snap.
What was the first music on cassette I purchased? I think maybe something by Springsteen.
I remember making mix tapes from vinyl albums for floor parties/dances in college. There were no DJs available then.
Got a killer deal on a Harman Kardon cassette deck at an off-campus hi-fi store and was the nicest stereo component I owned until I graduated & got a real job.
@compunaut@duodec@f00l For a time, I spent hours making mix-tapes for a new boyfriend; I’m happy to say he did the same. I think we each made four before we no longer felt so compelled to impress each other.
@f00l@Kyeh My aunt gave me the demo tape that came from a 1970 Chrysler they bought. Can’t remember the singer of “Peel me a grape” but a Sinatra song was on it too. That was used on a Panasonic “Clifton” player that my parents got me. Somewhere I still have a '70s Panasonic catalog that listed a lot of the devices. Thats pre-boombox. During the rise of the cassette over 8-track and reel to reel.
Panasonic Clifton tape recorder. I love that old black and brushed chrome look, like the cameras of the day. The thing was a tank too, heavy and solid.
When I searched for a lot of the devices in the catalog online, nothing came up. Makes me think about taking pics of the items in the catalog and hosting them somewhere with descriptions, so they are not lost… if I had the time Need more pics of cassette devices online and Panasonic was a prolific source.
I am saddened to report the passing of Bobby Plager, one of the original St Louis Blues, who remained active with the organization.
He was an original 1967 member of the St. Louis Blues, but also an original in every sense of the word. Bobby’s influence at all levels of the Blues organization was profound and everlasting, and his loss to our city will be deep.
Bobby liked to say he was No. 5 in our program, but No. 1 in our hearts. Today, our hearts are broken, but one day they will be warmed again by memories of his character, humor and strong love for his family, our community, the St. Louis Blues and generations of fans who will miss him dearly.
I was blessed to have met him several times in my lifetime. Such a loss to the city and the fans.
Lonesome Dove author and Brokeback Mountain screenwriter Larry McMurtry dies at 84
Larry McMurtry, the Pulitzer prize-winning author and screenwriter who examined the reality of the American west in novels including Lonesome Dove, has died.
McMurtry, 84, was the author of more than 30 novels, from Terms of Endearment to The Last Picture Show, and received an Academy Award for best adapted screenplay for his work on Brokeback Mountain with Diana Ossana, an award he famously accepted wearing jeans and cowboy boots. His death was confirmed to the New York Times by a spokesperson for his family.
McMurtry, who was born in Texas, published his first novel, Horseman, Pass By, in 1961. Set in a north Texas town on a cattle ranch, it was filmed as Hud, with Paul Newman in the leading role. His third novel, The Last Picture Show, a coming-of-age story set in a small Texas town, was adapted into a 1971 film starring Jeff Bridges and Cybill Shepherd, and brought him to wider fame.
The film adaptation of his novel Terms of Endearment, the story of a widowed mother and her daughter starring Shirley MacLaine, Debra Winger and Jack Nicholson, won the Oscar for best picture, while his 1985 novel Lonesome Dove, following retired Texas rangers driving a cattle herd from Texas to Montana in the 1870s, won him a Pulitzer prize and was adapted into a mini-series starring Robert Duvall and Tommy Lee Jones.
“I wrote the book and saw it become acclaimed, more so – indeed much more so – than any of my other 28 fictions,” McMurtry wrote of Lonesome Dove in his memoir, Literary Life. But he described the novel as “the Gone With the Wind of the West … a pretty good book; it’s not a towering masterpiece”.
Barack Obama, when presenting McMurtry with a National Humanities Medal in 2015, said: “He wrote about the Texas he knew from his own life, and then the old west as he heard it through the stories of his grandfather’s – on his grandfather’s porch. And in Lonesome Dove, the story of two ex-Texas Rangers in the 19th century, readers found out something essential about their own souls, even if they’d never been out west or been on a ranch.”
McMurtry told NPR in 2014 that he did not buy into the myth of cowboy as hero. “To me it was hollow, and I think it was hollow for my father, though he would not have ever brought that to his conscious mind. He totally loved cowboys, and so did most of the cowboys he worked with, and that got him through his life. But he knew perfectly well that it wouldn’t last another generation.”
McMurtry was also an antiquarian bookseller, writing in Literary Life that his collection, which spanned more than 30,000 volumes, was “an achievement equal to if not better than my writings themselves”. Accepting his Oscar in 2006 for Brokeback Mountain, he took the opportunity to thank booksellers and said: “Remember that Brokeback Mountain was a book before it was a movie,” he said. “From the humblest paperback exchange to the masters of the great bookshops of the world, all are contributors to the survival of the culture of the book, a wonderful culture which we mustn’t lose.”
As PEN America president from 1989 to 1991, McMurtry was a staunch defender of free speech, testifying before Congress on behalf of PEN in order to oppose provisions of federal immigration laws that allowed the US to exclude writers and others on ideological grounds. “In addition to his epic portrayals and subversions of the American west, McMurtry was through and through a vigorous defender of the freedom to write,” said PEN America President Ayad Akhtar. “We’ve lost a giant of American literature, and a giant in the history of PEN America.”
“Mother, I’m home,” Beezus called, as she burst into the house one afternoon after school.
Mother appeared, wearing her hat and coat and carrying a shopping list in her hand. She kissed Beezus. “How was school today?” she asked.
“All right. We studied about Christopher Columbuc,” said Beezus.
“Did you dear?” said Mother absent-mindedly.
“I wonderif you’d mind keeping an eye on Ramona for half an hour or so while I do the marketing. She was up so late last night I let her have a long nap this afternoon, and I wasn’t able to go out until she woke up.”
“all right, I’ll look after her,” agreed Beezus.
“I told her she could have two marshmallows,” said Mother, as she left the house.
Ramona came out of the kitchen with a marshmallow in each hand. Her nose was covered with white powder. “What’s Christopher Colummus?” she asked.
“Christopher Columbus,” Beezus corrected. “Come here, Ramona. Let me wipe off your nose.”
“No,” said Ramona, backing away. “I just powdered it.” Closing her eyes, Ramona pounded one of the marshmallows against her nose. Powdered sugar flew all over her face. “These are my powder puffs,” she explained.
Beezus started to tell Ramona not to be silly, she’d get sticky, but then decided it would be useless. Ramona never minded being sticky. Instead, she said, “Christopher Columbus is the man who discovered America. He was trying to prove that the world is round.”
“Is it?” Ramona sounded puzzled. She beat the other marshmallow against her chin.
“Why, Ramona, don’t you know the world is round?” Beezus asked.
Ramona shook her head and powdered her forehead with a marshmallow.
“Well, the world is round just like an orange,” Beezus told her. “If you could start out and travel in a perfectly straight line you would come right back where you started from.”
“I would?” Ramona looked as if she didn’t understand this at all. She also looked as if she didn’t care much, because she went right on powdering her face with the marshmallows.
Oh, well, thought Beezus, there’s no use trying to explain it to her. She went into the bedroom to change from her school clothes into her play clothes. As usual, she found Ramona’s doll, Bendix, lying on her bed, and with a feeling of annoyance she tossed it across the room to Ramona’s bed. When she had changed her clothes she went into the kitchen, ate some graham crackers and peanut butter, and helped herself to two marshmallows. If Ramona could have two, it was only fair that she should have two also.
After eating the marshmallows and licking the powdered sugar from her fingers, Beezus decided that reading about Big Steve would be the easiest way to keep Ramona from thinking up some mischief to get into while Mother was away. “Come here, Ramona,” she said as she went into the living room. “I’ll read to you.”
There was no answer. Ramona was not there.
That’s funny, thought Beezus, and went into the bedroom. The room was empty. I wonder where she can be, said Beezus to herself. She looked in Mother and Father’s room. No one was there. “Ramona!” she called. No answer. “Ramona, where are you?” Still no answer.
Beezus was worried. She did not think Ramona had left the house, because she had not heard any doors open and close. Still, with Ramona you never knew. Maybe she was hiding. Beezus looked under the beds. No Ramona. She looked in the bedroom closets, the hall closet, the linen closet, even the broom closet. Still no Ramona. She ran upstairs to the attic and looked behind the trunks. Then she ran downstairs to the basement. “Ramona!” she called anxiously, as she peered around in the dim light. The basement was an eerie place with its gray cement walls and the grotesque rections. Except for a faint sound from the pilot light everything was silent. Suddenly the furnace lit itself with such a woosh that Beezus, her heart pounding, turned and ran upstairs. Even though she knew it was only a furnace, she could not help being frightened. The house seemed so empty when no one answered her calls.
Uneasily Beezus sat down in the living room to try to think while she listened to the silence. She must not get panicky. Ramona couldn’t be far away. And if she didn’t turn up soon, she would telephone the police, the way Mother did the time Ramona got lost because she started out to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
Thinking of the rainbow reminded Beezus of her attempt to explain to Ramona that the world is round like an orange. Ramona hadn’t looked as if she understood, but sometimes it was hard to tell about Ramona. Maybe she just understood the part about coming back where she started from. If Ramona set out to walk to the end of the rainbow, she could easily decide to try walking around the world. That was exactly what she must have done.
The idea frightened Beezus. How would she ever find Ramona? And what would Mother say when she came home and found Ramona gone? To think of Ramona walking in a straight line, hoping to go straight around the world and come back where she started from, trying to cross busy streets alone, honked at by trucks, barked at by strange dogs, tired, hungry . . . But I can’t just sit here, thought Beezus. I’ve got to do something. I’ll run out and look up and down the street. She can’t have gone far.
At that moment Beezus heard a noise. She thought it came from the basement, but she was not certain. Tiptoeing to the cold-air intake in the hall, she bent over and listened. Sure enough, a noise so faint she could scarcely hear it came up through the furnace pipe. So the house wasn’t empty after all! Just wait until she got hold of Ramona!
Beezus snapped on the basement ilght and ran down the steps. “Ramona, come out,” she ordered. “I know you’re here.”
The only answer was a chomping sound from the corner of the basement. Beezus ran around the furnace and there, in the dimly lit corner, sat Ramona, eating an apple.
Beezus was so relieved to see Ramona safe, and at the same time so angry with her for hiding, that she couldn’t say anything. She just stood there filled with the exasperated mixed-up feeling that Ramona so often gave her.
“Hello,” said Ramona through a bite of apple.
“Ramona Geraldine Quimby!” exclaimed Beezus, when she had found her voice. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Playing hide-and-seek,” answered Ramona.
“Well, I’m not!” snapped Beezus. “It takes two to play hide-and-seek.”
“You found me,” Ramona pointed out.
“Oh . . .” Once again Beezus couldn’t find any words. To think she had worried so, when all the time Ramona was sitting in the basement listening to her call. And eating an apple, too!
As she stood in front of Ramona, Beezus’ eyes began to grow accustomed to the dim light and she realized what Ramona was doing. She stared, horrified at what she saw. As if hiding were not enough! What would Mother say when she came home and found what Ramona had been up to this time?
Ramona was sitting on the floor beside a box of apples. Lying around her on the cement floor were a number of apples – each with one bite out of it. While Beezus stared, Ramona reached into the box, selected an apple, took one big bite out of the reddest part, and tossed the rest of the apple onto the floor. While she noisily chewed that bite, she reached into the apple box again.
“Ramona!” cried Beezus, horrified. “You can’t do that.”
“I can, too,” said Ramona through her mouthful.
“Stop it,” ordered Beezus. “Stop it this instant! You can’t eat one bite and then throw the rest away.”
“But the first bite tastes best,” explained Ramona reasonably, as she reached into the box again.
Beezus had to admit that Ramona was right. The first bite of an apple always did tastes best. Ramona’s sharp little teeth were about to sink into another apple when Beezus snatched it from her.
“That’s my apple,” screamed Ramona.
“It is not!” said Beezus angrily, stamping her foot. “One apple is all you’re supposed to have. Just wait till Mother finds out!”
Ramona stopped screaming and watched Beezus. Then, seeing how angry Beezus was, she smiled and offered her an apple. “I want to share the apples,” she said sweetly.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” said Beezus. “And don’t try to work that sharing business on me!” That was one of the difficult things about Ramona. When she had done something wrong, she often tried to get out of it by offering to share something. She heard a lot about sharing in nursery school.
Now what am I going to do, Beezus wondered. I promised Mother I would keep an eye on Ramona, and look what she’s gone and done. How am I going to explain this to Mother? I’ll get scolded too. And all the apples. What can we do with them?
Beezus was sure about one thing. She no longer felt mixed up about Ramona. Ramona was perfectly impossible. She snatched Ramona’s hand. “You come upstairs with me and be good until Mother gets back,” she ordered, pulling her sister up the basement stairs.
Ramona broke away from her and ran into the living room. She climbed onto a chair, where she sat with her legs sticking straight out in front of her. She folded her hands in her lap and said in a little voice, “Don’t bother me. This is my quiet time. I’m supposed to be resting.”
Quiet times were something else Ramona had learned at nursery school. When she didn’t want to do something, she often insisted she was supposed to be having quiet time. Beezus was about to say that Ramona didn’t need a quiet time, because she hadn’t been playing hard and Mother had said she already had a nap, but then she thought better of it. If Ramona wanted to sit in a chair and be quiet, let her. She might stay out of mischief until Mother came home.
Beezus had no sooner sat down to work on her pot holders, planning to keep an eye on Ramona at the same time, when the telephone rang. It must be Aunt Beatrice, she thought, because she answered. Mother and Aunt Beatrice almost always talked to each other about this time of day.
“Hello, darling, how are you?” asked Aunt Beatrice.
“Oh, Aunt Beatrice,” cried Beezus, “Ramona has just done something awful, and I was supposed to be looking after her. I don’t know what to do.” She told about Ramona’s hiding in the cellar and biting into half a box of apples.
Aunt Beatrice laughed. “Leave it to Ramona to think up something new,” she said. “Do you know what I’d do if I were you?”
“What?” asked Beezus eagerly, already feeling better because she had confided her troubles to her aunt.
“I wouldn’t say anything more about it,” said Aunt Beatrice. “Lots of times little children are naughty because they want to attract attention. I have an idea that saying nothing about her naughtiness will worry Ramona more than a scolding.”
Beezus thought this over and decided her aunt was right. If there was one thing Ramona couldn’t stant, it was being ignored. “I’ll try it,” she said.
“And about the apples,” Aunt Beatrice went on. “All I can suggest is that your mother might make applesauce.”
This struck Beezus as being funny, and as she and her aunt laughed together over the telephone she felt much better.
“Tell your mother I phoned,” said Aunt Beatrice.
“I will,” promised Beezus. “And please come over soon.”
When Beezus heard her mother drive up, she rushed out to meet her and tell her the story of what Ramona had done. She also told her Aunt Beatrice’s suggestion.
“Oh, dear, leave it to Ramona,” sighed Mother. “Your aunt is right. We won’t say a word about it.”
Beezus helped her mother carry the groceries into the house. Ramona came into the kitchen to see if there were any animal crackers among the packages. She waited a few minutes for her sister to tattle on her. Then, when Beezus did not say anything, she announced, “I was bad this afternoon.” She sounded pleased with herself.
“Were you?” remarked Mother calmly. “Beezus, I think applesauce will be good for dessert tonight. Will you run down and bring up some apples?”
When Ramona looked disappointed at having failed to arouse any interest, Beezus and her mother exchanged smiles. “I want to help,” said Ramona, rather than be left out.
Beezus and Ramona made four trips to the basement to bring up all the bitten apples. Mother said nothing about their appearance, but spent the rest of the afternoon peeling and cooking apples. After she had finished, she filled her two largest mixing bowls, a casserole, and the bowl of her electric mixer with applesauce. It took her quite a while to rearrange the contents of the refrigerator to make room for all the applesauce.
When Beezus saw her father coming home she ran out on the front walk to tell him what had happened. He, too, agreed that Aunt Beatrice’s suggestion was a good one.
“Daddy!” shrieked Ramona when her father came in.
“How’s my girl?” asked Father as he picked Ramona up and kissed her.
“Oh, I was bad today,” said Ramona.
“Were you?” said Father as he put her down. “Was there any mail today?”
Ramona looked crestfallen. “I was very bad,” she persisted. “I was awful.”
Father sat down and picked up the evening paper.
“I hid from Beezus and I bit lots and lots of apples,” Ramona went on insistently.
“Mmm,” remarked Father from behind his paper. “I see they’re going to raise bus fares again.”
“Lots and lots of apples,” repeated Ramona in a loud voice.
“They raised bus fares last year,” Father went on, winking at Beezus from behind the paper. “The public isn’t going to stand for this.”
Ramona looked puzzled and then disappointed, but she did not say anything.
Father dropped his paper. “Something certainly smells good,” he said. “It smells like applesauce. I hope so. There’s nothing I like better than a big dish of applesauce for dessert.”
Because Mother had been so busy making applesauce, dinner was a little late that night. At the table Ramona was unusually well behaved. She did not interrupt and she did not try to share her carrots, the way she usually did because she did not like carrots.
As Beezus cleared the table and Mother served dessert – which was fig Newtons and, of course, applesauce – Ramona’s good behavior continued. Beezus found she was not very hungry for applesauce, but the rest of the family appeared to enjoy it. After Beezus had wiped the dishes for Mother she sat down to embroider her pot holders. She had decided to give Aunt Beatrice the pot holder with the dancing knife and fork on it instead of the one with the laughing teakettle.
Ramona approached her with Big Steve the Steam Shovel in her hand. “Beezus, will you read to me?” she asked.
She thinks I’ll say no and then she can make a fuss, thought Beezus. Well, I won’t give her a chance. “All right,” she said, putting down her pot holder and taking the book, while Ramona climbed into the chair beside her.
“Big Steve was a steam shovel. he was the biggest steam shovel in the whole city,” Beezus read. " ‘Gr-r-r,’ growled Big Steve when he moved the earth to make way for the new highway."
Father dropped his newspaper and looked at his two daughters sitting side by side. “I wonder,” he said, “exactly how long this is going to last.”
“Just enjoy it while it does,” said Mother, who was basting patched on the knees of a pair of Ramona’s overalls.
“Gr-r-r,” growled Ramona. “Gr-r-r.”
Beezus also wondered just how long this would go on. She didn’t enjoy growling like a steam shovel and she felt that perhaps Ramona was getting her own way after all. I’m trying to like her like I’m supposed to, anyhow, Beezus thought, and I do like her more than I did this afternoon when I found her in the basement. But what on earth will Mother ever do with all that applesauce?