Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh Friday!

What a day of surprises. And what a day of so many photographs taken that I won't be able to finish this blog until tomorrow.

The day began when I, still recovering from the Rocket Sled injuries told Sven how Paul was obedient to God in how to treat others even when they were those who were taking him to his death:

Then, determined to ask Pickles' forgiveness, I was ambushed from behind by Pickles, held in place by Sven, and made to swallow a Koolickle. And, as the sequence shows, it wasn't so bad; it was actually quite good.

Turns out the the only known antidote for the fatal disease I had contracted down in Antarctica is a Koolickle and Pickles had been following me to save my life. We quickly administered Koolickles (which the kids had prepared on Tuesday morning) to all the kids who had been exposed to me this week. (I'll put the recipe, if you dare, in the next post, though it is available in many places on the internet).

Then we went on to our snack for the day, storm battered boats (as Paul's) and island footprints (where Paul and his centurian landed).

More Saturday, when I have time to digest all of the pictures . . .

Uncle Pinky