I came home yesterday, and there was a pack of Oreos on the kitchen counter. I've known for quite some time that Echo, one of the orphans, could draw a passable imitation of my signature, and that Ratty likes to curl up in the car if the windows are left open. But I was shaken to discover the extent of their talents. Chocolate sends me into a coma: what were they going to do with that time?
Eventually, I will write about something besides cats and my eating obsessions; when the state of the world changes enough to be noticed above these catastrophes (no pun intended.) Do any of You really think that the Gulf oil spill has been cleaned up? That our politicians are doing something about the economy besides checking their shares in Citi Bank? That a diamond sold today has been interrogated by de Beers and has sworn it is not from Sierra Leone? No, my Dears, these are all fictional stories and much less interesting than wondering what the cats need to do with me at home that they can't get accomplished while I am gone