Morning all:

Quote Of The Week:

“You can’t make up anything anymore. The world itself is a satire. All you’re doing is recording it.” Art Buchwald 1925 – 2007

(said this past week while on his way to Heaven via Martha’s Vineyard.)

This morning, in the dark, I was a little panicked. Several months ago my wonderful ‘Davis connection’ surprised me with bags of Seattle’s Best coffee—this morning I ran out. Not only would it be difficult to start my day, but the MacGuffin of these Ramblings would be missing. I did find the new bag of whole beans and ground a cup as per the directions. Grinding coffee at 5:00 am in a still house becomes a very loud event—trust me.

With our Briones gang living a thousand miles away making use of every technology to share is important. One of the best, however, is still the photograph. It is always a happy moment to open up mail and click on a JPG attachment. The latest were of the kids and show 6-month old Kellen during one of his weekly growth spurts. I know that at that age kids love to pick Cheerio’s from the high-chair tray. Kellen must use both hands to eat gobbets of these things.

He’s very proud to show exactly that he’s “sooo big!” What he doesn’t show is that he can’t sit in the highchair anymore since he can’t bend in the middle; he requires a straight line from his buns to his shoulders. For Derek it means that “the chase is on”. Kellen with his increased bulk can now build up a ‘head of steam’ and chase after each of Derek’s toys. Derek, as the oldest in my family, it doesn’t get any easier.

I thought I’d include this photo of Morgan our little old cat since it would appear from her pose and eyes that she is fully possessed. It started by me looking into the living room to see both cats in a state of bliss. Both were laying on the floor, one with its head on the other; a photo-op just too good to miss. I started a mad scramble for the camera (it’s never at the ready when I want it). Very soon I did find it; powered up, got my creaky old bones on the floor for that perfect angle, and yes they were both still in that same idyllic pose. A few more seconds for the flash to power up and then I got blinded by the flash. The result? Only one cat visible, the other had managed to escape, probably because in that one split second he sensed that Morgan had become possessed.

This evening is our annual Neighborhood Progressive Dinner. Marcia tells me that about 70 fellow neighbors have made reservations. Four houses are involved; two for appetizers, one for the main course, and one for dessert, add to that several rolling coolers of liquid refreshments and combine all with gobs of wonderful conversation. I hope that any cars stay clear of this happy troupe wandering our little streets.

Make it a great week everyone: remember, moderation is good—at least some of the time.


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