Itsy Bitsy Puppy

Meet the newest member of our family, Sage's golden retriever puppy, Bitsy. Bitsy was a birthday present for Sage from Bassy.

Andy adores her too, because she's so playful and loyal.

Bitsy is so small now, she's smaller than the newspaper.

I was ticked off at Bitsy though. The first day she started chewing on the leg of the dining room chairs. We're renting this house, we don't own it!

"Bitsy," I reprimanded her, thinking of my upcoming workout, "you can't do that."

She looked at me with her head hung down. She's so cute when she does that. I mean she knows when she has done wrong. She is like my kids that way.

Visiting AJ

About a week ago, I paid a visit to my son AJ at Fort Starch Military Academy.  Putting him (and Sety) in that school was bar none the toughest thing I’ve ever had to do. 

Fort Starch is this huge campus with wood cabins surrounding the main building. 

I approached Sergeant Downey, the commandant in charge of AJ’s regiment (Sety has a different commandant and is in a separate regiment) and asked him if I could see my son. 

“Our different regiments have different visitation days and hours,” he explained.  “In your son’s case, his visiting hours are from 10 to 3 on weekends.”

“But it’s Tuesday afternoon.  I’m going crazy here, I have to see my son.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cheesman, no exceptions.” 

It was the first time I’d ever been called Mrs. Cheesman.  I wasn’t sure I liked it.

I found out later that Sergeant Downey was the father of the boy AJ so mercilessly tormented.  Whoops. 

 

Just then I caught a glimpse of my son coming out of one of the cabins.  I barely recognized him.  His hair had been lopped off, he had lost weight, and his eyes took on that lost-puppy-dog look.  I hoped that he had been chastened by his time at Fort Starch – indeed, it didn’t look to me to be a very forgiving place. 

“Hey mom.”

“Here, I brought you something.  Your favorite.”  I handed him a box of coconut crème cookies.  The butler baked them – but he didn’t have to know that.

 

We stood there for a good ten minutes, just staring at each other.  Other than having my mom’s chestnut hair, he looks exactly like his father.

“Can I come home, Mom?” he begged.

It took every ounce of my strength to tell him no.  In a perfect world I would have scooped him in my car and taken him and no one would have been the wiser, as he is my son and the last thing I want is for him to suffer. 

“You have to serve out your sentence,” I told him, “if we let you come home, who knows what the consequences would be?”

Royal balls and state dinners

 

Yep that’s me, Savannah Plumb Cheesman, at the royal palace.  Why on earth am I there?  Two reasons.  One is I’ve been hired by the queen herself to stamp out ghosts before the royal wedding. 

And the other?  Does this gown give a clue?

The invitation, stamped with the family’s royal seal, arrived in my mailbox.  I still have it as a keepsake. 

The occasion was the formal birthday party of two of the most miserable little girls I’ve ever seen in my life.  Of course, I’m talking about the Vanderburg twins, Alexandra and Anastasia.  Thankfully my own children have never made these girls’ acquaintance and, given their petulant behavior, I’m not sure I ever want my daughters to even come into contact with them. 

Of course, the queen herself bears some responsibility for the way these girls have turned out. 

I sat down next to my father (!).  “What are you doing here?” I asked him.

“I got a royal invitation,” he said, “I’m supposed to perform at the wedding.”

“You?  Performing at the wedding? At your age?”

“Why not?  Especially if I can still do it.”

Just then I saw his eyes wander in the queen’s direction.  “Dad, don’t you even think about it,” I whispered. 

“Hey, Princess, I’ve been working on this song for the royal wedding.  Do you want to hear it?”

I can’t believe Dad is still composing songs at his age. 

 

Just then, with Dad going to the restroom, I was joined by the Prince himself.  I must say, he is even better looking in person.

“I would like to know, Your Highness, just what is the secret to this very fertile soil?  My family and I have never had such tasty vegetables in our lives.”

The Prince, tearing into his slice of imported birthday cake, smiled a secret smile and didn’t say a word.  

Sage

A random view of Hidden Springs.

So we spent $1400 simoleans on a show horse for Sage, a Hanoverian called Traveller. 

But Sage doesn’t seem to be too much interested in horseback riding.  Or much of anything else for that matter.  In fact, when she got on the horse she was scared. 

One thing I know for sure.  Sage is unhappy.  Even more unhappy than I am.  I think part of it is she misses her brothers, who went off to reform school.  Then we moved to Hidden Springs right before her birthday.  I’m at a loss, I don’t know what else to do.  I miss the bubbly little Sage I think I left behind in Sunset Valley.  I think I left me behind there too. 

I’m trying to decide whether to enroll her in Alpine School or to send her to Le Fromage.  Andy wants to keep her here, but I’m thinking Le Fromage Art School is more in line with her interests.  She loved the ballet class she took in Sunset Valley but she also liked exploring the area around Pinochle Point.  That’s why I thought she would take to horseback riding, but so far she hasn’t really.  Her show horse has taken more to me than to her, lol. 

Bassy

 

I had more than a few words for my darling kid brother, Sebastian Ryan Plumb, who most of the world knows as Bassy.  By the way, I gave him that nickname.  Now it’s on freakin’ billboards. 

So Sety told me that Bassy was in town, and I invited him over for dinner.  I decided to show him around my rented house. 

I told him that I was in town at the special request of the Queen herself, to rid the mansion of the ghosts which had infiltrated it before her son’s wedding in a few days.  “This is the new Banshee Blaster,” I said, showing him my new toy, “the Queen herself paid for it.”

“Really?” he said. 

After telling him about the book I’m promoting and the new gig I got fighting ghosts in the royal palace, that, by the way, I’m being paid a queen’s ransom for, I decided to ask Bassy what was going on with him.

“Sebastian—”

Silence.

“Bassy, there’s something you’re not telling me.  You may be the biggest movie star in the world, but you are still and always will be my little brother.”  I have to occasionally remind him of that fact in case he gets his head swollen by his stardom.  I helped to make him what he is, and I won’t let him forget it. 

Meanwhile, upstairs my youngest daughter, Sierra, was upstairs watching a program on television.  Goodness, the more I look at her, the more I see myself at her age – including the fact that she refuses to wear a dress.

Thing is, I can’t tell her anything because I was the exact same way.  Hmm, still am.  I still hate makeup and dresses, but I force myself to wear them for work and at photo shoots. 

After I dared Bassy to talk, we walked into the kitchen. 

We walked inside the kitchen.  The pecking order is still the same, I go first and he follows behind.  It’s been that way since we were young and it’s not going to change now, lol.  I protect him.  It’s my job. 

So Aubrey, our butler in Hidden Springs, has made hamburgers for dinner, and we walked into the kitchen to eat them.  Our new friend, Gabriella Ornales, has joined us.  Gabriella lost her husband last sim year, and moved to Hidden Springs in order to find a mate.  Meanwhile, she’s having too much fun blowing away the money he left her, lol. 

I sat on one end of the table, Bassy was on the other end.  Sage was seated next to him, Gabriella next to Sage, and Andy on the other side of him.  Sierra came downstairs later and took a seat next to Andy. 

Anyway, Bassy drops this major bombshell.

“I’m writing a screenplay.”

Really, Bassy?

“It’s about this movie star, right, he’s the son of a composer, he wants to be a composer too but he’s afraid of stepping into his dad’s shadow … anyway, he has these three women in his life …”

O-kay.  Bassy, you sure you’re not writing about yourself?  Have you had one too many spline reticulators?

“Hold it, Bassy, wait a minute… three women?”

“Is it always like this at your dinners?” laughed Gabriella.

“Pretty much,” Andy laughed back, “you should see when her parents join us.”

“His co-star, his childhood sweetheart and his mom.”

“I cleared everyone out, Bassy… it’s just you and me.  Now fess up.  What the hell is going on?”

Bassy took a deep breath.  “Ok, remember back home in Sunset Valley that I was kinda sorta dating Daisy Ramsey?”

“Yeah.”

“And remember I told you about this girl Kyra that I met in Bridgeport?”

“Yeah.  Vaguely.”

Bassy told me everything.  Of course I knew a lot of this because Satis and Sage gobble up the gossip rags like candy. 

“So let me get this straight.  You didn’t tell Daisy you were seeing Kyra, and you didn’t tell Kyra you were seeing Daisy.”

Bassy nodded. “Then when I came back to Sunset Valley I had to tell Daisy the truth.  She hasn’t spoken to me since.  I can’t say I blame her.”

“What about Kyra?” I asked.

“After I told Kyra about Daisy, she went to the press and told this reporter that she is pregnant.  She says I’m the father.”

I sighed and shook my head.  “Oh, Bassy.  I can’t believe you got yourself into this mess.”

“You can’t believe it?” Bassy whispered.  “What about me?”

I sighed again.  “Bassy, you better hope and pray to the Watcher that this isn’t your child, or you are in a whole hell of a lot of trouble.  You need a DNA test.  And you need to tell Kyra right away.” After demanding a DNA test – by the way, the 2nd DNA test I’ve demanded for Bassy, the first was from the photographer I hired to photograph my family -- I took a deep breath and sternly warned, “But, I will say this.  If this is your child, Sebastian, you have to step up and take responsibility.  You have to be a father.  Your childhood is over, you’ve got to grow up and be a man.”

Woman About Town

The mountains are absolutely beautiful.  Too bad I’m utterly miserable here.  I’m a beach bunny and I don’t see a single beach in sight. 

Andy’s made new friends quickly.  Just yesterday he went out with the fellas to their favorite fishing spots. 

Meanwhile, I’m feeling a bit left out in the cold.

So, while Andy was asleep and the kids were at school, I took matters into my own hands.  Sick of moping around our rented house, I decided to poke about town. 

I came to this secluded little picnic area and this mysterious little fountain.  I wondered if this was the noted ‘Fountain of Youth’ talked about in the brochures.  Is this the healing spring my mother’s doctors advised her to seek? 

My curiosity piqued, I knelt down and took a sip.  It was the most refreshing water I’d ever tasted.  A simday was added to my life.  It felt great.

 

The next place I entered was the local spa.  Easily the biggest spa I’ve ever seen. 

There, I passed by a strange woman on a bass??? 

I took a deluxe foot massage on one of their deluxe recliner chairs.  The motorized voice tried to be soothing, but I found her ingratiating. 

I watched the bass player for a good five minutes.  It was her and the instrument.  She saw no one or nothing else. 

I decided, while she was playing, to take out my phone and get a pic. 

Sorry for the lack of updates…

 

Author’s note:  My game is NOT cooperating with me and hasn’t been for some time.  I’m on the search for a new computer and if that doesn’t work, it could be time to say good bye to the Plumbs. 

Hey, it’s me, Savannah Plumb Cheesman.  I’m not dead, it just feels like I am sometimes.  :\

So, Satis and I were talking over breakfast.  It was just me and her left in the house after the other kids had gone off to school.  She’s due to become YA soon and I asked her about her future plans.  “So, an apartment, a house, what?”

I was stunned by her response.  “Return to Egypt.”

“Why?” I asked.  “It’s dangerous there now!  Much more than when I went.”  I can’t say that I’m up to date with the current political situation in Egypt, but I know it’s total chaos there.

“Egypt needs me.”

I let out a deep breath.  I couldn’t tell Satis that she’d be resented even more because she was raised in the States by a blond, green-eyed Anglo Simerican.  I can’t tell anyone anything anymore.  I have to bite my tongue.  It sucks.  I so wanted to tell Satis not to go to Egypt.  But I couldn’t.  I just couldn’t. 

What’s happened to me?  Have I become – soft – in my advanced age?  Ewww, I hate that word. 

This picture was recently published in one of the tabloids, of AJ and his roommate, a kid named Grayson O’Connor.  Seriously, who’d send a KID to Fort Starch?  He had to have REALLY acted up.  Apparently they separated Sety and AJ, which was recommended by the judge.

Andy’s already made himself a few new friends, and they talk about sports and stuff.  I hate it here in Hidden Springs and am kind of feeling left out.  I thought getting Fireball would help but it really hasn’t, as I’m not as much of a horse person as I thought I would be.

We (well, Andy) got Sage a $1400 simolean Hanoverian show horse named Traveller for her teen birthday.  Though the poor creature was wiped from his journey to our rented house.