Cormorant (rolling eyes): Oh no, not her again.
Chesapeake Bay Woman: Hi, Mr. Cormorant!
Cormorant: How do you know I'm a cormorant?
CBW: I don't. I'm just making an educated guess.
Cormorant: Did you know cormorants don't talk?
CBW: Who says they don't?
Cormorant: Most sane people. Normal types who don't have conversations with aquatic birds and then post said conversations on the internet.
CBW: I never claimed to be one of those.
CBW: What are you doing over the upcoming Memorial Day weekend?
Cormorant: What part of "cormorants don't talk" did you not understand?
CBW: All of it.
Cormorant: You have issues.
CBW: And yet you keep talking to me. Anyway, Friday I am leaving for the Eastern Shore to go (drum roll) CAMPING.
Cormorant: Oh no. Not that. Haven't you learned from past camping trips that all you're asking for is a disaster such as a hurricane, a tropical storm, a nor'easter, an insect infestation, a thrown-out back, a case of almost-appendicitis, sweltering heat, jungle humidity, crowded bathhouses or all of the above--and
CBW: And your point is...?
Cormorant: Gotta go. Have to call my friends over on the Eastern Shore and tell them to get out of Dodge, or at least out of the greater Cheriton/Cape Charles vicinity, before the Disaster Magnet arrives in town on Friday.
CBW: Party pooper.
Since I could easily continue this conversation for a minimum of three days without taking a breath, I'm forcing it to come to a merciful conclusion.
But in two days the Chesapeake Bay Children and I *will* be going camping, and although I'm getting very excited, there is a small part of me that is a little nervous based on past
How will you be ushering in the start of summer? Has anyone heard the extended forecast for the Eastern Shore? Are locust swarms predicted?