BJH is my new best friend. I love the comments she leaves on the blog. She is a cheerer-upper. (I can tell you right now that spellcheck is going to paint a big yellow blob over the word cheerer.)

BJH, do my comments I write back to you come through? I think they do because I think you referenced something in one of my comments. Let's hope so.

Announcement. I have replied to every single comment I have ever received.

Hey guess what? Someone in Russia looked up my blog. Mike showed me this, he can look up fancy information like that. The bad part is that they only spent 0.00 seconds reading my blog. I guess they don't read English.

Something interesting happened in church today. This adorable young couple I know sat in front of me. I noticed they were very touchy feely (they always are) and he seemed very solicitous toward her condition. Which was? Then she got up and left for a while. During that time I glanced down into her purse, which was unzipped. It wasn't my fault I saw the contents of her purse. They were exposed for all the world to see, all the world being me. But we had to stand for the Scripture reading so what is a body named KEM supposed to do? It's only natural to study the pew in front of you.

Well, in that purse was a Ziplock bag of saltine crackers. Further clues...unnecessary.

So after church I said to her, You know, I haven't been in church much lately, did I miss something, some kind of announcement maybe? She kind of giggled, that's all. I persisted. Are you expecting? Yes, she is, but it's a secret until Thanksgiving.

So why did I just publish this on my blog for the whole world to see, even all the way to Russia? Because no one in my church reads my blog, that's why.

I am very clever at leaving names off, too.

I just love Robby's hind legs. They are bunny rabbit feet. He's slightly pigeon-toed. (Are all cats slightly pigeon-toed?) I find terrific amusement in watching him walk away. So little of the foot is actually used and what is used is turned inward. He looks so sneaky with his back feet. He just does.

Boy, hope he doesn't need corrective shoes, like I had to wear at 5 years old because of bunions. Really, I need to contact Guinness World Book of Records on that one: Girl Sprouts Bunions 9 Decades Early. I have pictures to prove it, too. Except that might humiliate DTD. I got a complex at 5 years old having to go to Saltz Shoe Store downtown and get these hideous bulky, stiff saddle shoes or whatever they were (they've been zapped from my mind forever) instead of NORMAL kids shoes. It was so deflating. Well, we just won't go there.

I really can't blog tonight because I spent my blogging time watching The Talk of the Town Again. I'm glad I can thoroughly enjoy watching a movie or reading a novel more than once, even back to back. I knew a lady who couldn't do that. One time, she's done, honey. On the other hand I once knew a teenager girl who had read Gone With the Wind 9 times. Or was it 14 times. Whatever it was, it was drastic.

How come hot chocolate never tasted so good in the BEAUTIMUS birthday mug my CDW gave me? That was my prelude to Talk of the Town. Aaaaah.

Oh! My favorite line in Talk was when Mr. Colman, the stuffiest law professor ever, comes a day earlier than he's expected to rent Jean Arthur's house and she hasn't quite finished tidying it up yet (it looks perfect except for finishing hanging the drapes) and he tells her, I have never seen such monumental inefficiency. That just cracked me up to no end. I'd hate to hear his compliment about my housekeeping. He is no BJH. There was another line that slayed me but...need I say more.

So, since I can't blog, here is a quote that you will just love. I did.

Every day that is born into the world comes like a burst of music and rings the whole day through, and you can make it a dance, a dirge, or a life march, as you wish. ~ Thomas Carlyle

I think I'm somewhere in-between life march and dirge. How 'bout you? This quote kind of jarred me...in a good way. And it's so pretty to think of each day being born. That is very musical, indeed.

Oh, Robby played fishing pole during the entire first half of The Talk of the Town. I was the one holding the fishing pole. So, I have to tell you, I bought Robby a Krinkle Tunnel at Target. It's a long tunnel that krinkles. I'm so brilliant. He adores running through it. And there's a hole in one spot in the middle that I can drop the tail-less muskrat down. Nice to know I picked a winner for a change. That blue plastic donut/bedpan from the yard sale is still sitting on the floor, being a nuisance.

The other winner is his blue plastic egg with adjustable holes all around it. You put treats in it. At first you make the holes big, so the treats kind of fall out automatically, until he gets the hang of it. Then you twist the holes smaller and make it more of a challenge. He loves rolling that egg along the floor and watching for a treat to drop out. More times than not, I put 5 little treats in there, yes, that is the norm. Today I grabbed six treats out of the bag and just put all of them in there. Robby only ate 5 of them. Too funny.

I love how animals perfectly understand English. Every time I say, Jazzi, let's go out back. Robby is there at the door. When I say, Let's go play tunnel (and the new added game, Sheet), Robby runs and jumps on the bed. Now, this is not Krinkle Tunnel, this is Pillow Tunnel. When I roll the hair off the bed, I pile the pillows to form a tunnel. Then he waits for my hand to shoot through the tunnel and scare him and he comes pouncing after my hand as I withdraw it back into the tunnel. Rolling the hairs, which is my version of making a bed, now takes 10 times longer.

Oh yes, and when I say to Jazzi, Here's your treat for going potty, Robby comes running now, wanting his blue egg. And furthermore, when I say, Robby, let's go clean the bathroom, Robby is there. He loves to swipe at the paper towel as I swipe it around the toilet rim.

I keep writing even though I'm not blogging tonight because I can't remember what I was really going to tell you about Robby understanding English.

When my German friend comes to watch the house (which I've managed to confuse everyone as to the dates of the trip), remember, she wants an organizing project. She's just begging for one. I was telling my neighbor this today. Cheryl said, Well, you should really let her do it! (Cheryl knows how I really live, maybe she's worried the clutter is going to start creeping across the long toward her house). I said, Yeah, maybe I should suggest she do the whole house, top to bottom. Well, that would be a lot to ask, so I did think of one thing, and that would be the pantry. I'll bet she will whip that baby into shape and when I come home I'll study her handiwork and say, Now, why can't I be so clever? I'm very excited about the prospects.

Needing to go to bed so I can wake up to the new born day before it's over,
KEM P.S. Spellcheck really let me down and didn't swipe yellow over cheerer. But it did over feely. P.P.S. Now that I think about it, I never see a newborn day, it's always middle aged by the time I face it.