Peckerwood Manor

As most of you know, Twyla the Turtle is an esteemed resident at Peckerwood Manor, known for her ribald conversations and delicious Atlanta Sours, which she makes with her own corn whisky from her own personal distillery. She's also just opened a sure-to-be-famous turtle spa, and while only Twyla and Tequila partake of its splendors at the moment, word has begun spreading. Turtles from parts near and far, we've heard, have already started their (very) slow trek toward our parts to enjoy its hot springs, massages, and reviving, minty scrub downs (as demonstrated by Miss Twyla above).  In practical terms, this means that by this time next year - or maybe after, as they're quite leisurely in their travel - we'll all have to be on the look-out, whether we be moving around on foot, bicycle or car. No one wants to hear a crunchy splat beneath their feet or tires, so do be alert to any wee, journeying creatures.  Also, today's lunch specials at the Peckerwood Cafeteria in...

Rejoice, for a miracle has occurred. Behold Tequila, the wee little turtle of Peckerwood Manor, who popped forth in the early-yawning hours from her teensy egg, glanced about, then tittered and said, "Where's the whisky in this joint?" She was promptly delivered a thimble full of  Glenmorangie, after which she hiccuped and said, "I actually prefer Johnny Walker Blue. Please make a note of this."  Picky little cooter that she is, she also kindly (always kindly) (but firmly) requested that her admirers restrict their visits and picture taking to after sunset, as she gets her beauty rest during the day, being that she's nocturnal.  Fun fact: Tequila will always be wee-sized, so do be careful before taking a seat on assorted lounges, couches and chairs throughout the manse. You won't crush her, of course, but honestly, the last thing she needs is to be suffocated by your muffled toots, queefs and varied trouser coughs. Fair? On an unrelated note, lunch today...