“It wasn’t me! I swear!”

Bella says she’s not responsible for the long covered trench in the background.

Karla is in Smallville buying groceries and mailing a couple of packages, Luke and Hilary are at a neighbor’s picking up a horse that we’re rescuing from being “chickened” in Mexico. Our neighbor across the river is getting one for herself to go with a horse she has already picked up, and Luke will see if it can be rideable. So I’m here answering the phone and updating a Web site and looking after the dogs.

I walked out the front door and there on the ground was a huge mole tunnel. It was enormous in length, if not in rise. I dashed up to the shop and got the wheelie-measury-thingie and rolled along the tunnel to its end. Thirty-three feet six inches (ten meters!)! I should report it to the Guinness people.

But they’ll want to come out and verify that it’s really a mole mound and not an earthquake crack (which can easily be more than 33 feet long). So that means I’ll have to protect the evidence and keep the dogs from tearing it up. It’s supposed to rain tonight and tomorrow, so that’s a bummer. The heck with it—it’s way too much hassle. I think I’ll go for the other Guinness instead. You know, the brewer.