Well, I did it! I blogged for 30 days straight. It has been quite some time since I have done this much blogging. I've really enjoyed it, and I do believe that I will keep blogging on a regular basis now. I am not going to commit to a post a day, but I think once or twice a week is doable -- possibly more often than that at times.
I do miss the old days before Facebook when blogging, specifically AOL Journals (J-Land), was a big part of my daily routine, but those days are gone. I have been enjoying reading my friends' blogs more regularly once again, and I have begun reading a few new-to-me blogs as well.
I started my series based on letters from my sister, Barbara, which is something I have wanted to do for a long time. I've enjoyed writing about my daughter's animals, and I haven't finished with that. And I've started the food topic series. I will continue with those themes as I go forward.
Now to close out November 2015 and a successful NaBloPoMo. If you did your post-a-day this month, congratulations! I hope it was fun for you. October and November have been strange, stressful months for me this year, with Thomas' injury and being off work. NaBloPoMo has been a nice distraction. He has even enjoyed it, reminding me of an evening to not forget to do my post! I hope things get back to normal in December.
Yes, I almost forgot to make a post today. And it isn't going to be much of a post.
I haven't been sleeping well lately, and having my regular sleep patterns messed up has really been hard on me. So tonight I took a Melatonin. I have never taken it before, but my daughter does now and then when she's having trouble with insomnia.
I took it about 8 tonight, took my shower and got ready for bed, and just before going off to bed it hit me -- I mean the Melatonin hit me. Those things really work! I'm glad I had set an alarm to remind me in case I hadn't made a post today because otherwise I'd not be sitting here typing.
Okay, so that's it. I can't think well enough to write anything better. I'm going to go back to bed now, and I'll sleep all the better for knowing I haven't messed up my challenge to myself to blog every day.
One of the blog writing prompts from this month was "If you had a personal assistant who would do your most dreaded tasks, which items from your to-do list would you assign out?"
I hate making beds. I always have. I love the look of a nicely made bed, but I have never liked the physical exertion of making it. This used to irritate my mother who now, even at 91, makes her beautiful antique iron bed every day!
I think the reason I don't like making beds is my back! I have severe scoliosis. I wore a Milwaukee back brace from the age of 10 to 14. Even before I was diagnosed I can remember having horrible, extreme lower back pain from the age of six. I can remember sitting in my desk in my first-grade class, crying because my back hurt, and my teacher wouldn't let me call my mother to come get me because she thought I was just homesick and wouldn't believe me when I said my back hurt.
Also, I'm very short, and that, too, makes it harder to make a bed, in my opinion. Anyway, I have always hated it. So I change my sheets at least once a week, and I "straighten" the blankets and spread each morning. But why do more, really? I'm just going to mess it up each night. Actually, if it is just me, I can sleep in a bed and barely mess up the blankets. A little straightening is all I need do when I get up. But Thomas can take a 10 minute nap and the bed looks like a tornado hit it! He will, however, make the bed for me anytime I ask him to, and my kids have had to make their own beds since they were little, so it is a task I don't have to worry about too often. Still, if I had a personal assistant, that would be one of her jobs. (Yes, "her." I don't want a male personal assistant!) What else would I have my assistant do? I'm not sure. I actually like to do dishes and laundry, even folding and putting away. I enjoy ironing, though I rarely have anything that needs ironing. I love cooking. I don't mind doing the bathroom, except cleaning the tub -- for the same reason I don't like making beds, I guess. The leaning over and reaching and such hurts my back. So that's something else she'd get to do. Sweeping, mopping, dusting, I don't mind, although as I get older, mopping hurts my back more. You notice these are all cleaning jobs for my "personal assistant" to do? I guess she would be more of a maid or housekeeper, wouldn't she? I like doing my own clerical and bookkeeping stuff. She'd have to stay away from those things. Ooh, I know! Running errands and shopping! That's what I'd have her do! So if you had a PA, what chores would you assign out? ~ ~ Lori
I did go with Eler Beth to Menards so she could get some things that were on a really good sale until noon. I stood in the checkout line and kept her company. We were in line for probably 45 minutes. But that was the extent of it.
She had worked until 10, and I had met her there after she got off work because I had some errands to do and we were going to get lunch together. The parking lot was so full people were parking on the grass between the parking lot and the highway. But I was in time to get a space that someone was leaving, and it was rather close to the doors. Yay!
Four times other customers asked her where something was as if she worked there. She did not have on her Pet Smart shirt; just a t-shirt. We are not sure why they thought she worked there, but it was pretty funny. We weren't bored in line because the young man in front of us talked dogs and other pets with us all the way to the check out.
So did you shop today. And if you did, did you survive?
I mention my sisters a lot in this blog. There are six of us girls, but we do have one brother. And if you've been a blogger friend for a while, you'll know that my brother is an invalid. He has lived at my Mom's for the past 18 or 19 years, since he suffered a stroke and needed some care in day-to-day life. About two years ago or so he became mostly bedridden; for the past year he has been entirely bedridden. My sister Barbara is his main caregiver.
Alton was sixteen when I was born. I was told that he was not amused that Mom was pregnant at her age. I guess he was a typical 16-year-old boy. But apparently I grew on him because he and his best buddies called me "Baby" and took me places with them. I don't think I was supposed to draw in the girls, because I think he and his future wife were already dating not long after I was born, but I might be wrong about that.
I was about four years old when he was drafted and sent to Vietnam. I can remember going with Mom and Dad, his wife, and her little sister to Fort Knox to see him graduate from basic training. All I can really recall is standing there watching those rows of uniforms and not knowing which one was Alton. Mom or Viney yelled out, "There he is!" And I kept asking, "Where? Which one?" I never could see which one he was and couldn't figure out how they knew.
I have memories of Mom getting letters from him in envelopes with red, white, and blue stripes around the edges. Sometimes he sent pictures to her, and I remember one of him standing by a tank. Years later he gave me the 35mm camera he used in Nam, and I cherish it.
I know that Vietnam changed him. Well, how could it not? I was too young to know how it changed him at the time. I didn't appreciate until years later the ways it changed him, but I have come to see that my brother was and is a sensitive soul. My son is very much like him. He had little nervous quirks and could get overwhelmed if he had to be around a lot of people for a long time. He is peaceful, doesn't like to be around arguments or fights. He lived in his head a lot. (So do I!) I imagine my son going to that horrid war at the age of 20 and what kind of damage it would do to him, and that is how I can know what Alton must have gone through.
He never talked much about Nam, not even to our parents. Several years before his stroke he was at Mom's house and China Beach was on the TV. A certain place in Vietnam was mentioned, and he said, "I was there." And that was the absolute first time I, myself, had ever heard him make even that small a reference to his time overseas. A few years later he apparently started talking about it to one of our sisters. Then he had his stroke.
After the stroke he told some war stories. I have a few of them on tape. And after he started getting worse he would -- and still will -- hallucinate and think he is in Vietnam.
The three oldest, Dennice, Alton, and Maxine
I'll write more about Alton in a later post. But right now I want to share a video that a friend posted to FB tonight. It's of the performing artist Pink and her father, performing together a song that he wrote about Vietnam; I believe she says that he wrote it while he was there. This video is from 2007, but I had never seen it before. It's nicely written, and I enjoy their harmony. Perhaps you will like it too.
I took a nap this afternoon and slept very heavily for a while. I dreamed very vividly. In my dream I was singing a song to my family. I explained to them that it was a very old song, but I had only learned it recently and had actually forgotten about it. I was very pleased in the dream that it had come back to mind.
I woke up, and the song was gone. I KNOW what song it was. I just can't remember what it is called, how it goes, or any of the words. Have you ever done that? It was a song that I had heard on a TV show I watched a few months ago on Netflix. It was either a BBC, Canadian, or Irish production I think (definitely not American). The song was an old traditional song that has been done by lots of musicians over the years. I really liked this particular recording, and I remember looking it up, learning it, and singing it.
Now I must go on a quest to find that song. I can't remember the show, but I know I watched it on Netflix and then deleted it from my queue when I'd finished the series. When I find it, I will come back and post about it here.
It was a gorgeous day today! Tomorrow is going to be nice, too, but after that there is rain in the forecast almost every day for a week at least. There will be some sun and not all-day-long rains every day, but still a lot of rain. I guess that's normal for November, but I've been enjoying these nice days and hate to see them end.
Each year as I get older I dread winter more and more. I get the winter blues worse now than when I was younger. Committing to blogging more may help with that, and getting back into a good writing schedule in general will be good. I'm just going to have to really be disciplined with myself to do that!
I have so much on my mind today that I can't settle down to write. And I know what I want to write about next but don't feel like composing it tonight. Sorry!
Eler Beth came home early from work today feeling bad. I hope she isn't getting the cold that her dad and I had and that everyone seems to have had. Whatever it is, I hope it passes quickly. I hate to see my baby girl feeling bad. I spent most of this afternoon trying to get her to drink juice or hot tea. She just didn't want anything, although she knows staying hydrated is important. She's a bit stubborn that way. :)
Ok, so, that's it for today. Hopefully I'll feel like taking the time to make a proper post tomorrow.
Have you ever had a metaphysical discussion prompted by the learning of a new word?
Sometimes Barbara likes to share new words with me, like in this letter from November 8 of this year:
"Let us say that the circle below [see image to the left]* is the earth, and that the line across it is the equator. You are here.
"Someone else is standing on the same meridian, but across the equator. At noon, your shadows will fall in opposite directions, which brings me to the point.
"There is a word for that.
"This business of casting shadows in opposite directions is ANTISCIAN, as are the people casting them. (an-TEE-shÓ™n) I am ashamed to confess that I had never felt the need for such a word, but now that I know there is one, I'm glad...."
We have long enjoyed sharing new words with one another, being logophiles of longstanding. Origins of words fascinate us, and because Barbara does not use a computer (more on that in a later post), she has at times sent me a word she has run across that she can't find enough information about the old-fashioned way. Or she'll have me look up the history of various spellings or uses of a word. She keeps me on my toes!
She goes on to say in the letter:
"...I like it better than the more common antipodal, at least metaphorically. Where is the relevance of being poles apart, when you may have been cast there, willy-nilly, by birth, or cataclysm, or some other interpersonal institution? On the other hand, it sounds more meaningful to actively cast your shadow, (vote, influence, evil superpowers, etc.,) in a contrary and perhaps unexpected direction. Of course, that's only my opinion...which doesn't substantially weaken my position."
You should have been around when we used to make up sentences in Latin and mail them to one another for the other to translate! It was a very good practice exercise!
I like it when I get little line drawings from Barbara included in her letters. And I love the cards she makes herself and sends to me. I'll share more of those as well as time goes on.
Well, I guess that's all for now. Shall I add in a bit of personal news? There isn't much, except that Thomas went for a follow up visit, the second since his surgery. The bone is healing and is still aligned right, but the surgeon wants him to stay off work for at least another three weeks, possibly four. {sigh} We are learning what it is going to be like when he retires in a few years.
I'm REALLY enjoying doing NaBloPoMo this year!!
~ ~ Lori
*When quoting a letter, anything I type in brackets [ ] and/or in a different color will denote a personal comment from me. :)
Back in June we had a hard rain than caused a lot of flash flooding of small creeks and rivers. The water went down pretty quickly, but for a while a lot of people had some flooding problems. Eler Beth got a call from a former workmate who had saved a small kitten from the flooded creek near her house. She said it was a very young baby, and would Eler Beth like to take care of it and try to find it a home because she wouldn't be able to do the bottle-feeding every day? So we hopped in the car and drove over to pick up this bedraggled orphan.
She was a very small torti calico with a pointy face and huge green eyes. She was skin and bones, so she'd either been an orphan for a while, or her mother was a stray and hadn't been in great shape either. We brought her home, and Eler Beth gave her a bath. She was a perky little thing, very interested in her surroundings, and didn't seem shy or scared of us at all.
We housed her in the upper room of Remi's condo, no longer needed for Soren and Illyana. We had been expecting to have to bring out the bottles and formula and start that process all over again, but we soon realized that although this kitten was tiny, she was not as young as we had been told. As a matter of fact, from her teeth, her eyes, and her demeanor, we were pretty sure she was at least five weeks old, possibly older. She could eat regular kitten food and lapped water just fine. It wasn't long before she was doing her business in a litter box.
We kept her isolated from the other "Nyans" until we had her checked out and were pretty sure she was healthy. Then we introduced her to the others while still putting her up in the upper room at night. Remi was taken with her right away -- she was just another playmate for him. Soren and Illyana, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with her. Bryant was happy to have another baby to care for.
We called her Sanaki, or Naki for short. Nothing phased Naki. Bryant irritated her when he tried to clean her, but she put up with it. We'd take the kittens outside for a few minutes, and she was ready to wander off and explore while the other two stayed very close to us. She was about a third of their size but had an attitude three times bigger!
We thought we had found a home for her, but that fell through. I was skeptical as to whether she'd ever be pretty -- she was so skinny and that little face was so pointy. But as she started to put on some weight and fill out, her cheeks rounded out and her eyes didn't overpower her face so much. And now I have to say she is quite beautiful. She has round, owl eyes, that look like big, green jewels in her face. She is serene and sweet and plays like it's going out of style.
We'd had her for about four weeks when we decided she was not going anywhere. Any other orphans that might be taken in in the future would have to have homes found for them, but Naki was already part of the family. Sori and Illy had finally adjusted to having a little sister, and our little "Scoop o' kitty" as we called her was here to stay.
We love all four of our little "Nyans."
Remi, Soren, and Illyana when they are all just a couple of months old, snuggling up together in Little Bit's bed.
Below, Remiel the night we first got home with him. Eler Beth fed him, and then he dropped off to sleep in her hand. He was only 5 weeks old.
Soren also was very good at falling asleep in your hand!
Right, Remi being cute!
Below, Remi and Illyana, snuggled up together. Remi likes to look out the window.
Committing to blogging every day this month has really made me want to get back into blogging. And if I'm going to commit to blogging at least once or twice a week after this month, I decided to try to change my blog layout a bit.
Blogspot doesn't give one a lot to work with, but it's pretty easy to figure out, use, and move around the gadgets that they do give. I want to highlight the three series I'm going to try to continue, and so far what I've done over in my sidebar is the only way I can figure out how to do that. I'm not sure it's going to work though.
I actually tried earlier this year to start a blog using Wordpress. I follow some blogs on Wordpress, and I like how a few of them look. But when I tried it, it seemed a bit difficult and unwieldy to me, so I deleted it. I may try again, but I'll probably just stick to what I've got.
If anyone has a suggestion as to how to highlight my series other than what I'm doing, I'm more than willing to listen. I may try out a few things in the next few days -- and then I'll probably just end up changing it back to how I have it now. Oh well! We shall see.
I'll be back tomorrow with something more interesting to read, hopefully.
The sister nearest to me in age is Barbara; she's six years older than I. Barbara probably has more talent, all tolled, than all of my family put together. She's an artist, working in several different mediums, a musician, and a writer. And she's just a really good person. She is the main care-giver for our brother Alton, who, after suffering a stroke about 18 years ago, has, in the past few years, declined into a bedridden state. She provides 90% of his physical care, and she does it uncomplainingly.
About three years ago Barbara started writing me a weekly letter -- an actual letter sent through the mail. I've always cherished her letters, beginning with the time she was away in the Marine Corp and continuing after I'd married and moved out of state. Cards and letters between us were sporadic at best. But a few years ago she began writing me, our sister Maxine who also lives in a different state, and one of our cousins, on a weekly basis. Her reason for beginning to write us weekly was, if I remember correctly, because she had a lot of old stationary, cards, and notepads that she wanted to use up. A good reason, right?
Even when there isn't any real news to tell, there is always something funny about her letters, a bit of wry humor, a funny clipping, a witty line drawing, and after reading them I can't wait to read them to Thomas and Eler Beth. It has occurred to me that I'd like to share them with others as well; at least parts of them. I'm not sure how she'd feel about this, but I think she'd give her okay. She's not quite as much of a recluse as she used to be. So another series I'm going to do, along with the On the Topic of Food series will be Letters From My Sister.
I was recently glancing through a few from this year, and I came across a card she sent me right before my 49th birthday. It was a home made card. On the cover she'd drawn a woman from behind, sitting in front of a dressing table and mirror. On the inside was the mirror face with the words, "Objects in Mirror Are Older Than They Appear."
Inside she'd written to me,
"This applies to all of us, of course -- but you're the one that's about to get older. Mom was just figuring up how old you'll be, & her comment was, 'My land! My baby, about to be 49 years old...and the next one!...' The next one, of course, well, that would be me."
I got a kick out of that.
So I look forward to sharing some interesting, funny, or just warm bits from some of my sister's letters, perhaps a few times a month. It will be a nice way of introducing my family to readers, and you might get a chuckle sometimes.
That's Barbara at about 7 years old, holding me when I was a baby. :) Happy blogging!
I remember when my mother explained why my grandmother made such large dumplings.
A dish that my father enjoyed was chicken and dumplings, and my mother would make it very simply with not a lot of veggies in it. There was the chicken, lots of broth, and very large, round, home made dumplings. (And I'm talking dumplings the size of a fist.) I always loved my mother's dumplings, but when I was older and had chicken and dumplings for the first time away from home, I was surprised that the dumplings were small, even squarish sometimes. That was new to me.
After Thomas and I got married, the first time I made chicken and dumplings I made the dumplings the way my mother had made them, although I did put more celery and carrots in than she had been used to do. Thomas said they were good but asked me why I had made the dumplings so big. I told him that was how I'd grown up having them and how I'd learned to make them. He asked if I could make them smaller the next time. I did and discovered that they were still too big for him. I did quickly learn to cook them just the way Thomas liked them, with -- to me -- very, very tiny little dumplings. He also prefers a lot of them, with very little broth left that hasn't soaked into the tiny little things. I liked them fine either way, although I must admit, sometimes I have a craving for them the way my Mom makes them.
I remember telling my Mom about having to learn to make good
little dumplings, and she said that actually her mother had always made
them small, and that was actually how she'd learned to make them. But Dad had asked
her if she'd make them large the way his mother had made them, so she did. I found that very, very funny. She'd
changed from making them the way her mother had made them in order to
please her husband, and I'd changed from making them the way she, my mother, had made them in order to please my husband.
I find it interesting how methods and presentations of a dish can vary between families of such similar backgrounds. Mom said that Dad's mother made them so large because quite often she didn't really have enough chicken or vegetables to go around to feed all the children. But she almost always had plenty of flour for bread. So if she made the dumplings really large, it would stretch the meat and broth further. That made so much sense. Two or three large dumplings (into which the broth would not have totally soaked through) per child would be more filling with that child's portion of meat and vegetables. Yes, mothers contrive to feed their families when they have little means.
A general topic that I've wanted to write about for a while now is "food," but in particular how the ingredients in and preparations of certain dishes that are thought of as basic "plain," "ordinary," or "country" dishes can vary so much between different regions of the United States, and even between different families of the same region.
I was born and raised in Kentucky, and my family on both my mother's and father's sides had been in Kentucky for generations. Not only had they lived in Kentucky for generations, but they had stayed in the same relatively small area of Kentucky. So there weren't a lot of outside influences coming in from other cultures or regions to shake up family recipes and ways of doing things.
Therefore, dishes that I grew up eating, with only a few exceptions, were the same dishes that most people who lived in and near my county were eating, prepared basically the same way. I think it was only a few years ago that I realized that there were some favorite meals of my father's that didn't quite fit in with the ordinary fare we usually had. It hit me that he probably had never had oysters until he joined the navy, and I probably would not have been one of those rare children who LOVED rolled oysters, if he hadn't brought that taste home with him. And there were a few simple dishes that my mother prepared a certain way to please my father, even though her mother had taught her a different way to prepare them, and their families had never lived more than a few miles from one another. This seemed very interesting to me, and I wanted to write about it in a way that might be interesting to other people.
So that's what I'm going to attempt to do. I hope that what I end up putting down on paper turns out to be as interesting as it seemed to be when I wrote it in my head. The introduction might be a bit jumbled, and I don't expect it to flow correctly. But later posts in the series should be more cohesive. So I hope you'll return to read future posts about food and the things that influence our tastes. I'll write about my parents and how they were raised; how my husband and I learned to like each other's favorite foods and how we learned to cook for one another; how where I was raised, there were NO fast food or ethnic restaurants and what it was like the first times I got to experience those things; how some people honestly have never given any thought to the fact that things can be cooked and served differently from the way they were brought up, and; other things regarding food and family that have popped into my head over the years, demanding to be written about.
Cats, and Dogs, and Foxes Can Mix! All The Nyans, Part Eight
Despite
the fact that Fennec foxes are the most social of foxes, and that they
have been domesticated and owned as pets for many years, there are still
the facts that they are actually wild animals,and they are very,
very fast. So there are certain things you have to know about them
before deciding to own one. Although they love to socialize and can
become attached to their person, they aren't necessarily lovey, snuggly
pets like other mammals. They must be on a leash and preferably a
harness if you take them outside, and they don't usually even like going
outside or going to visit other places. They like their own little
territory and their own people and pets and are shy with others. They spook easily, especially by noises. Their big ears are so sensitive they can hear very well, and something we think isn't very loud can seem explosive to them. So if they were to get out of your arms or off their leash, they could run off in fright and you might never get them back. They
should be housed indoors exclusively and if you do have them outside,
they have to have a structure specially built for them that they can't
dig under or climb or jump out of.
Remi became very loving
almost right away. He doesn't want to be held often or for very long,
but there are times when what he does want is to be petted, cuddled, and
snuggled, and he absolutely loves his mom, Eler Beth, and all of his cat and dog siblings.
Fennecs
can be litter box trained, but not always, and Summer makes it plain to
any interested buyer that this is the case. Even when they do use a
litter box, they don't always use it. We were pleasantly surprised with
Remiel in this area, too. From the beginning he started using the
litter box. He has a small "corner" box in his condo, and there is the
larger box in Eler Beth's room that he and the cats use. He almost never
has an accident, as long as the boxes are kept clean. But if he comes
out into the rest of the house where there is no box, he might leave a
"golden nugget" on the floor as he's playing. He spends 90% of his time
in his room -- which is what he prefers -- so that's not a big deal.
Eler Beth has trained him to sit on command for a Cheerio reward. I don't know if he'll ever learn anything else -- and really, we don't expect him to -- but he at least knows that he'll get a Cheerio if he sits. It's very cute to watch him do it, too.
Bryant
had proved he was good with babies. When we introduced him to Remiel he
was very excited. As far as he was concerned we had brought him a new
baby to take care of. We only let them have time together under
supervision while Remi was so small, as we were doing with the kittens.
But soon, as the little ones all started growing quickly, Bryant
discovered that cats and Fennec foxes like to play, and he was happy to
stop trying to clean them and just play with them. Remiel became acclimated to his new room and his "condo" very quickly. He also decided that he really liked Little Bit's dog bed. And he LOVED Little Bit, who of course hated him! Little Bit is a toy fox terrier, 9 years old, and very set in her ways. She doesn't want ANY new animal on the premises, much less babies of any kind. She is very possessive and protective of me, but she had to learn to put up with Bryant, and now she was going to have to learn to put up with the kittens and the fox. She sleeps in Eler Beth's room at night because she is not allowed in our bed, and she will try to sneak in if she's allowed to roam the house at night. I don't like to keep our door closed all night long, so the solution was to make her sleep in Eler Beth's room.
At left, Little Bit trying her best to ignore the sleeping Remiel, snuggled up behind her bed. At right, we've given Remi his own plushy bed, and he snuggles up beside his plushy rabbit.
Remi began doing his excited "Whee! Whee! Whee!" call whenever Bryant or Little Bit came into the room. If "mom" (Eler Beth) left the room and came back in, he would "Whee!" And he even started doing it when I came in or if he could hear me or Thomas coming down the hall. He developed a little game to play with me. As soon as he knew I was coming in, he'd grab a toy, "Whee" all over the room and "keep" me from getting it. He'll lie down with it in his mouth, "whee'ing" the whole time, and I'll say, "You give me that toy," and either try to take it (and fail, of course) or just give him a good petting. It makes him so happy to think he's keeping that toy from "grandma!" I'll have to get a video of that.
To the left, me with a fox sleeping on my head. :)
Not long after we got Remiel, Eler Beth and I went on a five-day trip and we took Remi with us. The kittens we left at home, and Thomas took care of them. He got so attached to them that by the time we got home, he said we could keep them if we wanted. We had felt that he was turning toward that decision but we hadn't dared ask, so we'd just been kind of holding our breath. Now we could breathe. It was a good thing, too, because Remiel, Illyana, and Soren became fast and loyal friends. As far as the cats were concerned Remi was just one of them, and he, because he'd nursed with kittens, seemed to think it was just a matter of course that he had cat siblings in his new home.
So Eler Beth was very happy. She had Bryant, her companion dog, her best friend, who came to us at a time when he was really needed. She had her fox that she'd planned for for 8 years. And she had cats in the house, which she thought would never happen again.
And in June there was to be another addition to the menagerie....
(See previous posts for more of the kittens' and Remiel's stories.) ~ ~ Lori
