Baggaraggs

It is noon in the land Of the Baggaraggs. I am in the studio and have reached for the walkman to turn off the music...no IPOD. There is no walkman there, it has been lost in a pile of fabric, buttons, and doll limbs, so the music is just playing in my head ...the sound track from Momma Mia. I cannot turn it off. Yikes. I am in my new Nick and Nora Jammies that I have promised my Hub that I WILL NOT paint in...(HEH-HEH), working feverishly on a mousey that now requires some twigs for legs and arms...I can see it working out in my little brainy gray cells. Armed with my trusty wire cutters, I launch myself up and out into the yard in my Jammies...The landscape shrinks back...I can feel the bushes trembling at the site of those trusted wire cutters....ah, the Eugenia Compacta...(SP?) Off with a few perfect branches...it is angry now...and saying "what the hell?" With my little branches in hand I fly back into the house before the postman coming down the street can glimpse my unharnessed boobs flailing about in my Jambos. I close the door, which richoches nicely off the front of my left croc and smacks me squarely in the left temple. It hurts so bad that I pee myself in my new lovely jammies. This is the world of the Baggaraggs. Amen.