Granddaughter Angel has discovered the friendship of the
backyard snail. And since we have zillions of them in Grandma
Skinner's old ivy that she used to grow in San Luis Obispo,
Angel has a zillion new friends.
She likes to pair them up and give them rides on her little
cart, or put them in a bright yellow plastic cup and add some
grass for them to eat, or let them slime their way across her
hand. Their telescoping antennae with the little black 'eyes' on
the ends fascinate her, of course.
I was thinking: are there any slimy people in my life that I can
call 'friends' even though most folks would just rather step on them?
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