toot your own horn

last night we were invited to a neighborhood gathering. just the cool ones were invited. no cheerleaders allowed. or gymnasts. it is always great to get together. and get our drunk on. we're so good at it. plus, we always have a laugh riot. note to husband: if you're ever asked to go home and get that second bottle of wine for me, refuse. anyway, at one point, the subject of trains came up. shocker. we were telling them about a train we bought for our kids that hooks onto the trunk of a christmas tree. and the tracks run around the outside of the tree. a friend of mine posted a video of theirs the other day on facebook. when i saw it i knew i had to have it for thing one. so, that lead me to ask about the freight trains. that run all. night. long. this one in particular. every so often when i'm up in the middle of the night i hear it. its not a chupacabra. its the disgruntled train engineer. he starts blowing his whistle [and by whistle i mean air horn times 1,302,698] in granger. and keeps hanging on until he gets to cassopolis. which is about ten miles. straight. i thought i was the only one that noticed. nope. maybe he's been working on the railroad. all the livelong day. and he's mad. because his name is dinah.