Yesterday started normally. I helped out at ÜberElder's class picnic, humming Glamorous Life to myself as I carted home all the recyclable garbage to our house, and then it started ... with a phone call from Double Post.

"It" is tales of strange happenings, perhaps omens.

Yesterday Double Post found a nun (or, a woman dressed as a nun) and some Germans in her back yard, trying to catch turtles in her subdivision's retention pond with a net. Then they'd hide behind the trees. Then they'd go back into the pond.

Very odd.

More troubling still, I learned in today's local paper that Foghat is threatening "to rock my town." I am frightened, because from what I understand from Foghat afficianados (including the boy who sat behind me in third grade, Mike Patz, who also ate a lot of paste and had to have his stomach pumped), they ROCK HARD. I don't know if I'm prepared for all of that rocking.

To top it all off, Larry the Cable Guy is wandering around my neighborhood, unfettered and barely supervised.

It's all leading up to something, people.

Something wicked this way comes. I can feel it in my bones.

Addendum:

For those keeping score, we had:

The turtle-chasing lunatics, Foghat and Larry the Cable Guy, as mentioned above;
Dilf's plague and cicada invasion as referenced in the comment section, and now...

A diseased bat fell from the sky in front of Moxie in our backyard. Not a little bat, either. A big, scary bat like the kind that chased Scooby-Doo around all the time. Moxie, being a puppy, barked and tried to get her teeth around it, but couldn't. The thing hissed and squealed. Dilf had to kill it with a shovel.

It took four whacks.