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SATURDAY March 27 , 2004 - Subscribe - Contact Us - Rate Card - Place an Ad Valley&State Backpage O&E Sports Archives Classifieds Faith&Beliefs Obituaries Revels February 21, 2004 Pugh's Muse Raccoon poker party Lance Pugh Don't ask me how, but somehow I managed, while parking and leveling Lucy, my Airstream trailer, to torque the frame in a manner that resulted in blowing out a Plexiglas window as if hit squarely by a 12 gauge shotgun blast. With no piece of the window bigger than a dime it took me awhile to sweep up the plastic shards and seal the opening with cardboard and tape. I took my laptop out to the trailer and surfed, via my wireless network, the Internet for a replacement for the original 1966 window, placed the order, and walked back into the house after locking the Lucy's door. I was soon back working on an article that was due early the next day. I finished the story late in the evening, but, despite every reasonable attempt, I could not lasso a single Z. I gave up on the sheep count long ago, as I kept trying to estimate how many sweaters could be made with jumping wool as I sorted them into Small, Medium, Large and Extra Large. I rambled about the house in my bathrobe and slippers, trying to keep myself occupied until the sandman might bless me with a quick embrace with Morpheus and the healing that ensues. It was while quaffing a glass of water at the kitchen sink that I noticed some light escaping around the curtains of Lucy the trailer. I didn't remember leaving the lights on, but turning them out gave new purpose to my ramblings. I grabbed my keys and lumbered into the night. As I approached the Lucy, music began to waft softly in the night ... some blues was playing on the trailer FM radio, which was definitely not on when I locked the trailer. It was then that I noticed that the trailer was moving slowly to the beat of the music. Something was moving around inside so I tip-toed closer to ascertain the nature of my uninvited guests. I couldn't see much of anything, but the sounds were more pronounced. I'll never forget the cacophony of squeals, grunts and chortles emanating from within. The volume began to rise as I sensed some sort of disagreement taking place. While pondering the relative wisdom of walking into an unknown argument, I nearly fell over backward as a ring-tailed fury ball bounced the curtains aside long enough to see that a nursery of raccoons were chasing each other around the walls and down the hallway, each after another. There must have been 6-8 raucous raccoons rumbling about as I inserted the key to unlock the door. I'd seen enough and was about to end the ring tailed terror in the trailer. I forcefully flung open the door and was greeted by a shrinking blur of black and gray fur as the felonious louts jumped though the open window, the cardboard having been removed. They thundered not down the street or alley, but back toward my house, fading into the darkness as they rounded a corner. Slowly I looked about and what I saw would have broken any poker face. A deck of cards was cast about and the floor was littered with beer cans and pizza boxes. A stool was in front of the sink, which was full of water. A hand towel was still neatly in place on the kitchen counter. An empty tuna can that I had thrown in the trash was on the table, filled with ashes and cigar butts. There was a single slice of pizza left on the counter and despite the crush of beer cans; there was a microbrew in the refrigerator. For some reason I grabbed both of these, put them in a plastic bag, when I noticed my laptop on the sofa, right next to my cell phone. The laptop was somehow spared the trashing, yet it was running a program that I had not launched. It was a typed text to voice translation program, which I made to play, only to hear: "This is Lance Pugh and I'd like 5 large pizzas with the works and a side of sardines delivered to the window of my trailer, which I'll leave open as I have to run a quick errand. Bill my credit card, the numbers of which and expiration date are as follows ..." I cleaned things up, taped the cardboard back up, locked the door and went back into the house. I no sooner walked back in than heard the thunderous thumpings of the Poker Boys beneath the house, sounding much like a Polka Night at the bowling alley. It was then that my once soundly sleeping wife, Annette, wandered bleary-eyed into the kitchen just as I placed the plastic bag on the table. She opened the bag and produced Exhibits "A" and "B," then made the late night comment: "First the grumbling of your stomach wakes me up, then I find you with the last of a pizza and a six pack. How can you sleep if you're up snacking all night?" It was then that I again looked out the kitchen window, this time seeing 16 red eyeballs focused clearly on me. I weighed the current situation, then opened the window screen and asked, in a hoarse whisper: "You boys wanna play a few hands? I'm buying." Contact Lance Pugh at [email protected] DailyTidings.com Home Page Valley&State | Backpage | O&E | Sports | Archives | Weather | Classifieds Columnists | Faith&Beliefs | Obituaries | Revels | Subscribe | Contact Us Copyright 2004 Ashland Daily Tidings and Ottaway Newspapers All Rights Reserved Site Search: The new search is here! Click here for more information. .:Advertisements:. RESOURCES - ODOT Road Cams