Junival 27, 41 A.B.
I'm so glad my cat has mastered the fine art of desktop publishing. I learn the most interesting things with each and every issue of his newspaper....
My cat is fine, by the way. How could he not be? He has a new
catnip-stuffed pig toy. His somewhat similar lion toy scared him
at first, but not the pig. Oh, no - Mr. Pig took it in the neck like
an old, understanding friend the very first time Jester set eyes on him.
Or maybe - just maybe - it's residual excitement leftover from yesterday's
sighting of an actual, honest-to-goodness bluebird!
Sorry - I'll try to control myself.
Speaking of my wife, here's a photo she took of the Thames when she was
in London 3 weeks ago:
If you go to London, don't expect to see this particular stretch of water,
though. She tells me it flowed out into the North Sea shortly after
she took its picture.
Which reminds me (for some reason I simply can't fathom) - here's a photo she took while allegedly in Paris:
I like it because it contains my new, all-time favorite Frenchman:
I call him Pierre.
Pierre must NOT be confused with Albert, my new, all-time favorite Englishman:
I like to think that they named the Albert Hall after Albert here, but of course I can't be sure - especially since this guy's name is probably not Albert at all.
If you can shed any light at all on any of this, please email me.
Yes, yes, I know - how juvenile. You're sure my wife spent thousands
of dollars to go to Europe (plus $59.95 on film) so she could bring home
photos of poor, anonymous Europeans just so I could make them my special
OK, gotta go - bunny in the yard!
(If there's no entry tomorrow, it's probably because I died of ecstasy.)
(©Now by Pierre and Albert by order of King Dan the First)