Hello to the very nice people who read my blog. Warm greetings and good day to you.

Mainly today, I am going to tell you to go reread yesterday's blog, first two paragraphs. This is because last night before falling asleep my mind was whirling with Robby verbs and I had to add more. So, you see, this has become somewhat of a game. However, I am able to restrain my enthusiasm and truly only use verbs that actually describe Robby. Of course, asking you to reread a paragraph makes it sound like I think you have nothing better to do. Well, I know better than THAT!

Of course, I was too tired to get out of bed and record the verbs and was thinking, Here is Robby in our bed chasing his tail, I can remember that. And chill goes with chase. I can remember that. And I did. BUT, I'm not so sure I remember the other two verbs that then sprang forth in my mind, they may have been charge and check. We are going to pretend they are anyway.

So Robby has decided sleeping in our bed is very advantageous to his sensibilities. He just lilts (wrong use of the word, but I like it) all over the place, including landing on Mike's face now and again. He sleeps at the top of Mike's head sometimes, conforming his soft little body to the crown of Mike's head. Mike says cats like to do that. I think Robby likes Mike's prickly hair. He runs like a flash around the pillows and bunched up covers and has a high old time. He then jolts over to either nightstand and sees what's happening there. I wish I could be as genuinely interested in EV-A-REE-THING this old world has to offer like Robby is.

Robby, I can actually just sit for a few minutes and watch him grow. He's already maybe getting too big to fit in that confounded hole by the dishwasher. Maybe not, because he does disappear and I have to call, ROBBY!, ROBBY!, where are you?? And then when I'm looking the other direction, suddenly, there he is from somewhere. But he's still really light. I think he is growing longer and taller, but mostly it's hair.

I was in a neat home today, as in perfectly organized. The celebration of life gathering for my friend's husband was held in their daughter's home. Their stuff was truly minimalistic and therefore MANAGEABLE. I know the other daughter is equally as spectacularly neat, I can feel it in my bones. In fact, I may get to see firsthand because the other daughter has a fabulous new home and has told her mother to come and unwind for a few days. If that happens, I may be invited to go swimming one afternoon. It's just over the Skyway Bridge.

These are the kind of people who color code, by graduated degree, their clothes. Doesn't that just leave you in the dust? It does me.

But the celebration was so lovely and when they played the "film" of his life, I cried. There was a good bean salsa called Texas Caviar.

Mike's birthday was nice, the kids got him, per his request, a Hawaiian shirt and flip flops. So now I want to know when we're going to Hawaii. What I got him had to go back to the store already, a briefcase and small computer travel case. I thought that was too easy, running into TJMaxx and grabbing the first thing I saw (which was the only thing they had that fit the description).

Mike just called downstairs that Robby is a Wild Man. I'd better go take a gander. He may be having to get vinyl claw covers. I understand from the millions of testimonials posted that people and cats equally love and adore vinyl claw covers. They come in crazy colors, too. I can just see trying to affix those. Not to mention Robby seems the type of one in ten million cats who would find a way to remove the claws, which are firmly glued on with some marvelous adhesive. But I may be forced to try. His claws are sharper by the day. What a contrast from the sick little kitty a few days ago, who could only languish. Mike didn't say until after the fact, but he was worried sick about Robby. We were all sick, in one way or another. Sick at heart.

Robby has just come downstairs and is dismantling the computer equipment. So...GOOD-BYE!

But HARK! I forgot to say, Robby learned to play the piano today. He's such a scamp. In one giant leap he tried to go from the floor to the top of the upright piano. He just barely missed and there is a tiny Robby scratch right at the edge of the top of the piano. See, vinyl nails, here we come. Just now he was the cause of the dining room chair cushion hitting the floor, with more sound that was warranted. That scared him and a black dash flew through the kitchen. But he learned to jump to the piano bench (where twice today we came home and found him napping, whew, better than dishwasher hole) and then to the keys, where he steps down the keyboard...while I'm playing, I might add. This is enough to wake Mike up with a start from his snooze in the recliner.

AND, I must say the missing frying pan was mentioned tonight. DTD would like to know who would care about a dumb old frying pan. Well. I would, for one. I told Nick he could get a replacement frying pan from ebay for my birthday, Saladmaster, year 1983. Nick replies that August is a tough financial month because all four of his parents/stepparents birthdays are in August. Well, we arranged that nicely, didn't we? But that's mainly because more people are born in August than any other month. I couldn't even tell you how many people I've known through the years who share my birthday. Which leads me to believe more people were born on August 28th than any other day of the year. See the logic in that?

I forgot to tell you last night at dinner, that everything I ate had bacon in it, through it, on it or under it. The scallops appetizer with chips of bacon scattered about, the fried chicken and waffle with bacony syrup and, the bacon infused pretzel crusted chocolate silk pie with a strip of bacon on top of the whipped cream. I was so sick in the night. In fact, I am getting sick all over again just recounting such a rich and strange assortment of food. It sure was tasty at the moment, though.

Tonight I ordered fried grouper. Except when it came to the table I said, This looks different from the grouper I had here last time. Everyone looked at me, That's because you ordered flounder. Oh. So many miscues, vagueness and not tracking the conversations led DTD to announce that she is very worried about me and I have hit a new level of deterioration...or something to that effect. Mike has locked himself out of the house twice in a row recently. He blames it on Robby and not turning the certain age he just turned today. Maybe I should blame my shortcomings on Robby, too. Poor little putty cat. Hmm, Robby kind of looks like "I dot I saw a Putty Cat, I DID! I DID! see a Putty Cat. Except Robby is ten thousand times prettier and sweeter, I'm just going with the Tuxedo coat part.

Didn't I end this blog about 10 paragraphs ago?

KEM