It is blackfly season here at Rainbow Falls. As I type this, on Sunday morning, 2 or 3 drowned flies are doing lazy circles in the convection currents of my cooling tea, and the patter of little blackfly bodies on the screens sounds like rain. Sometimes I mistake the flies on my screen for punctuation, usually exclamation points, which is appropriate. Those Johnston Kids found a solution to the swirling voracious clouds while cleaning up the breakfast dishes. This is not even a gag – they walked around like this for an hour. This must be what it’s like to hang out with superheroes. The muffled voice, and the constant uncertainty as to what they’re actually looking at.