Thanks Vee, I knew someone would be able to help me. At the moment I am just too overwhelmed to even have time to search out things like that. Tomorrow I have to be ready for the moving company to come and move all the furniture belonging to our historical society from the first to second floor of our Town Hall. Plus this is Alumni Weekend here and have been involved with that as well. Ruth At 10:05 PM -0400 6/17/05, Vee L. Housman wrote: >Ruth asked, > >> Does anyone know where a Fort H. G. Wright might be/have been? I have a >> photo which is about 3' long that was apparently taken there. From the >> looks of the uniforms I'd say it was during WWI. This photo is not in >> great condition but I would like to find a home for it. Of course none of >> the people are identified and I have no idea how it came to be here. > >Dear Ruth, > >I checked Google and came up with your answer. Check out >http://www.dmna.state.ny.us/forts/fortsT_Z/wrightHGFort.htm > >It seems to me that they'd be interested in giving your photo a good home. >vee -- Ruth Barton mrgjb@sover.net Dummerston, VT

Dear Folks, My dinner companion Don arrived at my house at 4:50, 5 minutes early and carried in the paper grocery bag containing our dinner in one arm plus a cold six pack of LaBatt Blue Canadian beer in the other hand. After he set them down on my table we exchanged the mandatory hug, I put our grocery bag dinner on the kitchen counter, popped the caps off of two bottles of beer, put the other four bottles in the refrigerator and we sat down at my kitchen table to shoot the breeze. BTW, I offered him a frosted beer glass but he preferred drinking out of the bottle. The first thing I noticed about him was that he looked like he had aged 10 years since the last time I saw him a few years ago. I couldn't believe that he's only 76 to my 73 years. Not only that but I'm in worst shape than he is! It didn't surprise me that we started into swapping sea stories together again. Frankly, I enjoyed listening to his adventures of first when he joined the Army as an enlisted man right after WWII and then after he had received his 4-year college degree in the GI Bill, his remaining service in the Navy as an officer starting in 1951 during the Korean War. He sure knows how to tell a good sea story! I told a few of mine that couldn't compare with his but we did have a mutual discussion of our thoughts about this "new Navy" of ours and our personal opinions of old Captain Zumwalt, Chief of Naval Operations back in the late 60s/early 70s. What a ball we had discussing many subjects including teachers we had in high school--mine in Niagara Falls HS and his in Youngstown HS. BTW, Beth, the best teacher he ever had was his math teacher in Youngstown, Mrs. Geraldine Haskell (born 1891). I know that she's a relative of yours. He still remembers her vividly. Don sipped his bottle of beer more slowly than I did mine but before I popped open my second I put my roast beef on 'weck sandwich in the microwave and heated it up along with only a small serving of French fries. Don told me he wasn't hungry just yet but I told him to just let me know when he was ready and I'd heat up his sandwich. BTW, when he brought the groceries in for our dinner he let me know that two bottles of beer were for him and the other four bottles were for me! Yeh, like right! Like I'm still able to belt down four bottles of beer in any one evening anymore! But more ludicrous was that he had bought three sandwiches, one for him and TWO for me! It's all that I can do to eat one at a sitting. Yet it surprised me that after I had finished the first half, I couldn't resist starting on the second half and didn't quit until I finished it. As a result I stuffed myself on that one sandwich plus about 1/2 of the serving of French fries on my plate and I'm still trying to recover from it. When he popped open his second beer he decided it was time for him to eat then but wouldn't let me heat his sandwich up--it would taste as good to him cold as hot. He carried it over to the table on the plate I got down for him and sat down to enjoy it. I offered him a paper napkin but he declined. He had spotted my paper towel holder on the wall and helped himself. That was a good enough napkin for him. So that's the way our dinner date went. Just two old shipmates sitting over a couple of beers and remembering the way the Navy used to be and enjoying sharing our memories of it. A comment to my sister Norma. you'll be pleased that my house is still warm enough so that I didn't have to cover up my blouse with a sweatshirt to keep me warm. My house did that for me. Sorry to disappoint any of you! I told you in the first place that it wasn't planned to be a romantic evening together. It wasn't, but the two of us certainly enjoyed our time together. Shipmates forever! vee

Dear Folks, I had mentioned that tomorrow I 'm going to have a "romantic dinner" with Don, a widower whom I met a number of years ago up at the Town of Porter Museum. We had been corresponding with each other by email since then and sharing sea stories with each other--he's a retired office in the Navy and is a few years older than I. But let me tell you what our romantic dinner is going to consist of. He lives in Virginia and grew up around here in western New York and he's been craving our unique roast beef on Kimmelweck roll. My niece Deb told me that the best beef on 'weck is served at Ray's Rendevous bar on Lake Road. Therefore, Don will pick up two beefs on weck and bring them over to my house along with a six pack of Canadian beer. I will have to provide the mandatory horseradish. Well, here's where I feel a bit silly. Neither of us have any romantic interest in each other but nonetheless he'll be sitting at my table in my kitchen and for heaven's sake I should at least make the effort to put a cloth tablecloth on the table and try to scurry up a couple of place mats. Well, I dug up a nice tablecloth but the best that I could do regarding place mats was a couple of mix-matched ones. Like it or not, I feel that they're better than a couple of sheets of paper towels! I do have SOME class, you know! :-) As tired as I was at the time, I knew that I had forgotten one important thing. Beer glasses. Now, I've drunk beer out of bottles and beer out of cans but not in MY house! I finally remembered what cupboard I've stored them in over the years, and at the last minute I threw them into my dishwasher to shine them up. They're now spotlessly shiny clean and they're in my freezer to frost up for tomorrow. We've planned our romantic dinner for 5:00 tomorrow--you know, the romantic hour! :-) Therefore, I had things to do beforehand. I haven't been to my hairdresser in over a month and I've been looking like a bag lady lately. I've got an appointment with her at 1:30. Fran does magic with my hair. I've already picked out my wardrobe. Our temperatures have plummeted from the high 80s to the 60s almost overnight and it's difficult to know what to wear. Therefore, I'll start out with a nice casual blouse over my pants and in the event that I get chilled, I'll throw a sweatshirt over it. In a last effort this evening I got out my dust cloth and dusted the top of my buffet. It's been bugging me for weeks. Where Don will be sitting at my table, he'll have a broad view of my buffet and I certainly don't want him to think I'm a poor housekeeper! Like right, men notice those things! :-) Therefore, tomorrow I'll go through my same routine, I'll have my hair done and hopefully Don will show up with beef on 'weck and Canadian beer for dinner. Stay tuned. vee

Dear Folks, I've been plugging away again putting the stories of my book into one document that I eventually hope to have printed out, spiral bound and sent to my family or anyone interested in it. But I have an idea that the whole manuscript is going to be too large for ordinary printouts and binding. I'm not even close to half through it and I'm up to page 112. Not only that but I have the feeling that by the time it's all finished, it could go into volume 2 and maybe volume 3. I really can't go along with that and the work that multi-books would entail. The thought that popped into my head tonight would be for me to just burn the entire book on a CD and mail it out like that. I'm really against it inasmuch as when someone would be reading through it and had to quit for the day, the next time they opened up the CD, they'd have to scroll down and find where they left off. But right now, I'm really considering it. I do know one thing and that is that everyone would have the opportunity to print the whole book out themselves and bookmark it after it's printed out. In addition, in the event that CD's would eventually become so obsolete that no one could access them, I would make certain that I would have a complete printout of the book in my office that could last for many, many years even if it weren't printed out on acid-free paper. I'm still struggling through the tunnel but I still see the light at the end of it. It's a monumental project. vee

Ruth asked, > Does anyone know where a Fort H. G. Wright might be/have been? I have a > photo which is about 3' long that was apparently taken there. From the > looks of the uniforms I'd say it was during WWI. This photo is not in > great condition but I would like to find a home for it. Of course none of > the people are identified and I have no idea how it came to be here. Dear Ruth, I checked Google and came up with your answer. Check out http://www.dmna.state.ny.us/forts/fortsT_Z/wrightHGFort.htm It seems to me that they'd be interested in giving your photo a good home. vee

Bob from AZ wrote, > Yes I did. I started in Kindergarten in 1938 and finished 5th grade in > 1944. > We moved that summer to Tucson and I graduated from Tucson HS in 1951. > Miss > Pickett was my Kindergarten teacher also. My older Sister, Anne Watson, > was > two years ahead of me. You might recall the name. My Father taught > machine > shop in South Junior HS until 1944 when we moved. > > We lived on Maple Avenue. 1310 is the address. Dear Bob, Wow! I guess you were a couple of years behind me. I can't imagine why I don't remember your sister Anne. Now here's what Rachael in Alabama sent me personally, When I read Bobs email about Maple Avenue School, I hoped it was still going. I also went to kindergarten at Maple Avenue.(1946) I remember walking from Massachusetts Ave and then back home for lunch, then back for rest of school day. Only time we didn't walk home at lunch is when it was raining to bad. Then we moved and I went to Military Road School in Town of Niagara. Then Gaskill Jr High. I moved again and graduated from Lewiston Porter in 1959. Dear Rachael, Of course I remember having to walk home for lunch and then back again, too. But I don't remember not having to walk home for lunch due to bad weather. We would have starved to death! :-) Oh my goodness, Military Road School is still standing but hasn't been used as a school in years. Gaskill Jr. High is still an ongoing school and of course Lewiston-Porter School is almost in my back yard. It's so great to have this conversation between the three of us who went to kindergarten in the same school so many years ago. We were such little kids then, weren't we? vee

Does anyone know where a Fort H. G. Wright might be/have been? I have a photo which is about 3' long that was apparently taken there. From the looks of the uniforms I'd say it was during WWI. This photo is not in great condition but I would like to find a home for it. Of course none of the people are identified and I have no idea how it came to be here. Ruth -- Ruth Barton mrgjb@sover.net Dummerston, VT

In a message dated 6/17/2005 9:00:36 A.M. US Mountain Standard Time, NYNIAGAR-FOLKS-D-request@rootsweb.com writes: Bob, now let me ask you a question. Did you ever go to grade school at Maple Ave.? When? Vee Yes I did. I started in Kindergarten in 1938 and finished 5th grade in 1944. We moved that summer to Tucson and I graduated from Tucson HS in 1951. Miss Pickett was my Kindergarten teacher also. My older Sister, Anne Watson, was two years ahead of me. You might recall the name. My Father taught machine shop in South Junior HS until 1944 when we moved. We lived on Maple Avenue. 1310 is the address. Take care Bob AZ

Dear Folks, After I responded to the emails I had to respond to this evening, I continued to the very end of editing all my stories (with the exception of my Surinam Adventure). I knew that the next step I'd have to take is to link all of the stories into one very long document, one after enough in good order and to eventually paginate them into the whole book. I checked the remaining capacity of my ZIP disk and found that the free space far out numbered the used space where I've been storing all of my stories. Late tonight I took the plunge where I've never gone before. I opened another document that I just named "My book" and started to cut and paste the stories of my memories starting with the 1930s. After a number of false starts, I started to get the hang of it and at least I can go to sleep tonight knowing that I'm on the last journey in putting my book together to share with everybody. I've been wondering how I could ever tie everthing in order but I have an idea that it will all come together the way I've been envisioning it. This is far from the end of the tunnel for me but at least I can still see the dim light there. I know that I'll be happy with the ending. vee

Bob said, > I trust that Maple Avenue School is still standing and being put to good > use. > > Bob AZ Dear Bob, Oh yes indeedy, Maple Avenue School is still standing proud and is still being used as a grade school. If you want to see how it still looks go to http://www.nfschools.net/schools/Maple.htm Now ain't that the grandest sight? Oh my goodness, how I remember Maple Avenue School! In 1936 I entered kindergarten and I still remember our teacher, Miss Pickett. Of course I was afraid of her at first (I was only five years old) and she looked the epitomy of an old maid. In retrospect, however, I remember her as a caring teacher. I still remember being in the first grade and I believe my teacher then was Mrs. Barrett although she was single at the time. Our family then moved to 81st Street in LaSalle and I went to school at Pacific Avenue School on Buffalo Ave. After I finished second and third grade, we then moved to Chilton Avenue and I went to fourth and fifth grade at Ashland Avenue School. In 1942 our family moved again and my last year of grade school ended up being Maple Avenue School. I was 11 years old and quickly going into my teens. Bob, now let me ask you a question. Did you ever go to grade school at Maple Ave.? When? vee

Dear Leslie, Thanks so much for letting me know that I've inspired you to write down a simple memory of you and your mother. And every time a similar memory pops into your head, write that down too. That's what I've been doing and I know that my family will appreciate my stories about me, my sister and brother, my parents, grandparents, etc. It's a labor of love. vee ----- Original Message ----- From: "~~Leslie~~" <Aug67@cox.net> To: <NYNIAGAR-FOLKS-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Thursday, June 16, 2005 11:58 AM Subject: [FOLKS] Thanks for the stories! > Vee, > > In the singing words of the character Brad Allen in the movie, "Pillow > Talk".... > You are my inspriation, Vee-e! > > I've been reading your stories every since I subcsribed myself to > this list. Then, this morning (as I realized was doing something my > mother always did) I sat down and wrote what I am calling a "Family > Memory" story about that activity. > > So, I say to you - - - - - - - - THANK YOU FOR SHARING!! > Leslie Kohler >

Dear Folks, I've posted this story to the list about four years ago and I want to post it again. I have a special reason for doing it this evening and I'll tell you why at the end of the story. Moose the Dog and SPICCA May14, 2001 For a very long time I've been wanting to say a few words about a very dear departed dog friend of mine named Moose and his relationship to SPICCA, more commonly known as the SPCA. Around 1983 I decided that what I needed in my life was a big huggy dog to call my own and so I went to the SPCA to pick one out. I walked among the kennels of dogs and cats and my heart went out to each and every one of them. In the very last kennel I saw a Labrador retriever mix dog that really seemed to be reaching out to me. Of course he was barking and wagging his tail like all of them but what impressed me most was that when I walked up to his kennel he sat down very properly and just looked up at me with a sad look in his eyes and with his tongue lagging out, still wagging his tail. His name was Moose. I hadn't really made up my mind by then and I walked back to the other end of the kennels. When I looked outside down the rows of running yards, there at the very end was Moose, jumping up and down with flapping ears and waving desperately at me to get my attention. Well, that did it! I took Moose home with me and we were both ecstatic. But our ecstasy together didn't last very long. We got along wonderfully but I was still on active duty in the Navy, I didn't have a fenced in yard, and putting a leash on him in the early hours of the morning just so he could go the bathroom wore pretty thin with me. As a result my friend Fred who was retired took Moose to live with him. They got along just fine. Fred fenced his yard in and before long Fred and Moose and me were a threesome in Fred's pickup truck, Fred in the driver's seat, Moose in the middle and me in the passenger's seat. We'd go out for drives in the country and Fred would deliberately call Moose's attention to any dog alongside the road. Moose would jump up and down and bark and yell, all the while being in the front seat between Fred and me and generally stomping all over my lap. Despite the bruises I ended up with, all three of us had a great time on our drives. Over the next few years, Fred traveled to Switzerland periodically and he left Moose with me to take care of. Moose and I lived together and had some great times. The two of us would walk back into the country fields of my property where he could wander and sniff all over the "wilderness" and in general we had lots of fun together. Then came Moose's very special adventure. Fred had planned to visit his Swiss cousins once again and this time he decided to take Moose with him. Both of them boarded the jet (Moose in his comfortable cage) and they ended up in Switzerland. For the next few years this was repeated several times again to the point where eventually Fred sold his house here, all of his possessions and moved permanently to Switzerland to live near his Swiss family. Fred packed what possessions he had saved for the move into his pickup truck, he and Moose hopped into it and they waved goodbye to me. They drove down to the port of New Orleans where they boarded a freighter bound for Europe. Fred had booked passage as one of the very few passengers aboard the ship and for the first couple of days, Moose stayed in a protected kennel on the top deck. After just a few days, the captain realized what a good boy Moose was and allowed him to stay in Fred's cabin. Moose was also allowed to accompany Fred into the mess where the meals were served. Moose knew that he had to lie still under the table and never beg for food. When Fred described how their voyage went, I wanted to write a diary from Moose's point of view and what he would have written on post cards back to the SPCA where I had picked him up. Can't you just imagine what he might have written back to SPICCA about his adventures and the encouragement it would have given the other dogs and cats there? Such as, "The ocean voyage was an experience you'd have to have gone through yourself to believe. At the dinner table when they were having their after-dinner coffee, the passengers and crew beckoned me over to their chairs so they could pet me. The captain was right along with the rest of them. In addition, you've never lived until you've sniffed the salt air and felt the ocean spray in your face." Then he would have written from Switzerland, "Fred and I boarded the cog railway and slowly traveled up the steep mountain slope to the Jung Frau today. When I saw all the cows on the slopes with their bells clanging loudly, I wanted to bark at them, however I knew better. When I saw the huge glaciers, I was speechless. The view was magnificent!" Then "Today Fred and I dined at a cozy chalet on the shores of the Boden See. The view of the vineyards stretching down the slope below us was beautiful and the food was exquisite." Or, "Everyone just loves me and I've learned to bark in Swiss!" Moose lived out the rest of his life in Switzerland and adjusted to it just as well as he had adjusted to my adopting him from the local SPCA. He never really expected much in the first place, the two of us got to love each other and when he finally went off permanently to Switzerland with Fred on an unusual journey aboard a sea going freighter out of New Orleans, well I guess you can appreciate why I wanted to tell a story from Moose's point of view. It's a pity that Moose didn't keep a diary! It would have been an unbelievable dog story! Now here's what happened yesterday afternoon. I had just finished editing the story when the thought came to me that maybe the Niagara Falls SPCA would enjoy such a happy dog story, especially since that's where I adopted him from. As a result, I emailed the story to them with the hopes that at least I would hear back from them to let me know they received it. This is what I received this afternoon. Vee- I loved your story. I would like to submit it to petfinder.com as a happy tails story. I need your permission. thank you for helping our homeless fur babies! Charlene When I received such a lovely response I jumped up and down with joy (OK, so I only bobbed up and down with joy!). It made me feel so good to know that Moose's post cards back to SPICCA had finally been receoved. I know that it would have made him jump up and down with joy too! vee

Just got back from Dad's 70th class reunion, it was great, I'm so glad we went. Dad doesn't remember any of the folks there and may not remember going but he had a good time while he was there. It was held in a small, quiet restaurant so everyone was able to chat and hear. There were 7 class members there, out of 28 still living and there were 108 in the class. A quarter of the living members of a class out of school 70 years isn't bad. There won't be that percentage of my class present Sat night. Ruth At 10:32 PM -0400 6/14/05, Vee L. Housman wrote: >Oh Ruth, > >I've never heard of an Alumni Parade but what you described sounds so >special and "down-home-ish." > >The best that we could manage in Niagara Falls was a huge class reunion of >all graduates of Niagara Falls High School no matter what year they >graduated. It took place maybe 15 or 20 years ago and was put together by >the City of Niagara Falls in celebration of some anniversary. There was a >huge turnout of all ages and I remember that several from our class was >there. In fact, we had searched each other out and sat in a nice group. It >was such a large turnout that it had to be held in the convention center. > >It wasn't as wonderful as attending our own class reunion but it gave us a >sense of being one of many generations of NFHS graduates. >vee -- Ruth Barton mrgjb@sover.net Dummerston, VT

In a message dated 6/16/2005 8:59:00 A.M. US Mountain Standard Time, NYNIAGAR-FOLKS-D-request@rootsweb.com writes: It seems that everyone is looking forwarded to the new school that will be built in its place I trust that Maple Avenue School is still standing and being put to good use. Bob AZ

Vee, In the singing words of the character Brad Allen in the movie, "Pillow Talk".... You are my inspriation, Vee-e! I've been reading your stories every since I subcsribed myself to this list. Then, this morning (as I realized was doing something my mother always did) I sat down and wrote what I am calling a "Family Memory" story about that activity. So, I say to you - - - - - - - - THANK YOU FOR SHARING!! Leslie Kohler

Dear Folks, This evening, earlier than usual, my neighbor Dawn and her son, my buddy Jamie came a-knocking on my door to take my trash out to the curb. The first one to enter my kitchen was Jamie followed by his mother. I took one look at Jamie and saw that he looked absolutely handsome. He was wearing a long sleeved white shirt, a black and white tie, black pants and black shoes. I ohed and ahed over him and Dawn explained that she had just picked him up from his school orchestra concert this evening. In addition Dawn told me that he had just been picked as a member of the All Star team of Little League baseball. Of course that meant that I needed a hug from him and he timidly returned the hug. Note: I wonder if he's getting a bit too old for a "grandmotherly" hug. He's now ten years old. The first chance I got, I mentioned his recent tour through our museum with the rest of his fourth grade class. I asked him if he had noticed my being there. Oh, yes he did. I told him that I noticed him too and it looked like he was afraid I'd rush over to him and give him a great big hug. Oh no he wasn't but he agreed that it would have embarrassed him to have me hug him in front of his class. I asked him if he had enjoyed the tour of the museum and the village of Youngstown. Oh yes he did. I also asked him if all of the rest of the kids enjoyed it and he admitted that some of them didn't. Oh well, you can't win them all. Dawn and I agreed with each other that we were thankful that this recent high heat wave had broken--the temperature right now is down to about 65 degrees. I had opened one of my windows this afternoon and the house has cooled down to around 75 degrees without benefit of my central air conditioning. Jamie piped up that they didn't have air conditioning in his school. What?? One day this past week the temperature had reached 96 degrees and even with the classroom windows open, the kids plus the teacher must have been suffering horribly. All three of us had a good conversation together but they couldn't linger. It was around 9:00 and Jamie had to get out of his good clothes and go to bed. I always enjoy talking to Dawn on her weekly Wednesday visits to my house but I especially enjoy it when she brings my buddy Jamie along with her. It isn't easy to get him to open up but when he does, I could talk with him forever. vee

Dear Folks, Talking about school reunions and such, in this morning's Niagara Gazette there was another school reunion of sorts. It had to do with the closing of the Niagara Street grade school in Niagara Falls. It seems that everyone who had ever attended the school was there to say good bye to the school and reminisce about when they used to go there. But apparently there was an upbeat side to the occasion. It seems that everyone is looking forwarded to the new school that will be built in its place. Check it out at http://www.niagara-gazette.com/story.asp?id=2170# vee

Folks, you have no idea how relieved I feel tonight. It's been worrying me for over a month or so that no matter how hard I looked in my refrigerator freezer or my chest freezer, I couldn't find any trace of the onions I had chopped up and frozen. Last fall my next door neighbor totally inundated me with onions right out of his garden and in order to preserve all of them I chopped them up in my food processor and froze them. I stored them in a large plastic bag in my refrigerator freezer compartment. I've made good use out of them since, but all of a sudden they disappeared. They were always stored in that large bag. Well, tonight I was determined to find them come hell or high water. I almost emptied out my chest freezer, but no onions. Of course, they weren't in my refrigerator because they would have thawed out. In order to hold on to my last hope of sanity, I thoroughly checked my refrigerator freezer compartment where I had originally stored them. I found no large bag of them but I did find one ZipLock bag that contained some frozen sliced onions. When I checked out the contents, that's where I found the remains of my chopped onions--probably the equivalent of one onion. It was good news/bad news to me. The good news was that I hadn't lost my sanity regarding where the onions were in the first place. The bad news was that I hadn't realized my supply of onions had dwindled to that extent. Nonetheless, I was satisfied that at least I knew what the extent of my onion supply was and now I can plan my grocery shopping accordingly. At my age I tend to forget where I've placed or stored things. And the mystery of the disappearing onions really made me wonder how many brain cells I have left. But not to worry, from vast experience I know that if I really set my mind to it, I can ferret out anything, including onions. vee

Ruth, A parade sounds great. What a wonderful school tradition, one I hadn't heard about. Would you might letting us know how it turns out this year. Thanks. Evelyn in Old Orchard Beach, Maine > It's Reunion Season once again and here, in southeastern VT, that means > Alumni Parade. I don't know if they do these anywhere else but I was told > once that they are only held here. I know of three schools that have them. > We have a big parade through town on Sunday afternoon after graduation. > Any class that wants to can have a float, ride in cars, whatever. It > starts with the oldest class and ends with the new graduates in their caps > and gowns. Usually the 5 yr classes, at least, have floats unless it is > the early classes then usually some group with old cars will volunteer to > drive them. > > This year is my Dad's 70th year out and my 45th. I'm not sure if I'm > taking Dad for his reunion banquet or not, but I'm going to mine on Sat > nite. Don't think I'll be dancing though. Ruth > > > -- > Ruth Barton > mrgjb@sover.net > Dummerston, VT >

Ruth said, > It really wasn't very nice of them not to tell you that they had appointed > her and not to introduce the two of you. Ruth Dear Ruth, I agree with you. However, I recently received an invitation to attend the first annual Town of Porter's employee picnic in July and I'll have a chance to growl at the Town Hall people in charge. But don't worry, I can guarantee that all of us will end up laughing. Not only that, but I'll have to make sure that Rosanne, my Deputy Dawg, will be there so that we can talk our heads off again. vee