Born in Bollywood.

My lovely Friends and visitors passing through,

Y'know whaz more dramatical than a' offspring who don't believe the Parent? (Yes, thaz me, I admit without shame, thaz me, the offspring of all Offsprings.)

You know whaz more hyperbolly than that?

The Parent who wuz born in Bollywood.

No, wait, y'all don't call me Bad Daughter and cancel me and leave me in the woods, please *bear* with me. Whoa...this bear-pun fall nice-nice into place, you gon see later on.

Now, I don't know if y'all know this or not...my Parent can take a tale and stretch it mo' tall than Jack beanstalk. When she done with the tale, you ain't gon recognise one bean of truth. 

Like the time a streak o' breeze back home blow with the power of Category Half. According to the Parent, the wind lift a man up by he ankles, good thing he been holding on to a light post on the street corner.

Soon after, I hear she telling people that the wind hoist the man up from he knees.

Later, the wind raise he from he waist.

No, actually, the man been flying from he shoulders, hanging on to the post, flapping like a flag.

Y'see now, Friends? 

Y'all see why I does tell the Parent that she wuz born in Bollywood, home of hyper-drama and emotions?

See now why I does doubt the truth of observations she bring home?

Time and distance ain't change nothing.

Here me is with the Parent in this foreign land of Florider and...

...last Tuesday, the Parent return home from a gentle morning amble.

"Something wrong with Grey," she announce. "Grey on the lawn, cloak-up into heself, he look like he ain't want to talk to a soul. He hardly glance at me when I call he. He look one second and turn away so, quick-quick."

"Nothing ain't wrong with he," I scold. "You watch too much Bollywood. I swear you born there."

"I telling you, something wrong with Grey."

I dismiss the Parent concern for the Friendly Cat across the road and continue me Important Daughterly act of fixing breakfast. 

But that wasn't the end of that.

The next day, J, the owner of Grey the Friendly Cat, catch up on my Bollywood P. as she was strolling slow and merrily, tra-la-ee.

First thing that pop out from the Parent is: "J, what's wrong with Grey?"

J. say, "For days, he went missing. I couldn't find him anywhere, then I thought, he'll come home, he always does. But when he came home, he was behaving very strange. He'd just sit there, huddled, not eating. He looks as though something had scared him really badly."

"I wonder what happened," me mother say.

"I've been asking around," J. say. "I found out that there's a black bear in the area, and Grey had a tussle with it."

Oh dear.

Thaz all I got to say, dear Friends.

Have a wonderful week, look out for daughters with sheepish grins, plenty lurve, neena.