title

The drama queen loves my title. The Pharissical hypocrite I tend to channel is smug that he isn't exactly lying. There are three chipmunks in this story. The bear is me--attitude wise. KizPaws (animal lover lowers her respect for me--NOW he's pandering to the litnetters--it's so sad when the (in his own mind) the mighty fall--much like Stan Lee going from creating the Marvel Superheroes of the 60s to Stripperella in the 2000s--and yes I watched one in order to mourn over his fall from art to low class culture. I've had a feeling for years Lee's been coasting on his fame (since the early 70s I might add when the spell of Hollywood took over.) But he was a force to reckoned with (with Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko) at one time.

Moving on.

No news on Jim's child custody hearing. I spent 20 minutes on the phone the other day trying to get the correct Springfield Clerk of Courts to pony up some info with zip for results.

Oldest cat Trixie seems to have had a slight stroke--her back legs aren't functioning well. I DO NOT and HAVE NOT the heart to vet her because those dreaded words 'quality of life' will responsibly be said and I am a coward at heart. I'll sit sanctified and put her in the Lord's hands. So pathetic I'm more concerned about my cat then the idiot nephew. (We'll catch up with him later.) The judgmental Calvinist part of me rears his solemn head and nods gloomily and with unction. Sarte was a party animal compared to my doom and gloom when the mood strikes. Grace86 caught on a long time ago, Logos keeps consulting the lawyers about net responsibility for diatribe users and Kathcf and the Countess have abandoned me.

Linda Ronstadt's song 'Poor, Poor Pitiful Me' dances delightedly down the brain cells and I laugh and smile. God is still good.

When will Chip and Dale make their appearance?

Why not now.

If you visit the Hospice of Dayton on Wilmington Avenue you will find a two winged building with holiday inn type rooms giving a view to the outdoor world. There are bird feeders and squirrels abounding around the building. And if you take your friend Mary Ann outside in her wheelchair she has a gift for spotting the fastest moving critters it was ever my delight to see. Chipmunks look as small as mice but they make the squirrels look like they are wearing weights when running in comparison. There are two tribes one at each end of the wing we are on. One chipmunk is the lazy one--both MaryAnn and I agree well he MUST be a male. He watches the others gathers their acorns and then he rushes over--STEALS what he can and zips back to his little sanctuary. I spot three all total while Mary Ann tells me this story of her red spotted highwayman and we laugh.

The hospice has done too good a job. She is being so well taken care of she is NOT going to die anytime soon NOW.

So out she goes.

Monday.

BUT- - -

Her stepson is having her flown to Florida where he will tend to her the rest of her days. She does not wish to go. Had lived in the Dayton, Ohio area the last 50 years. Can't take much with her. I strongly urge her to take two of her bells (she collects bell ornaments) at least and not leave them ALL behind. If I get that bad I want at least an Avengers or Batman comic with me at the end. Jonah Hex too come to think of it. Plus a Shadow pulp. Then Matthew Henry and the Bible. (Worldly Christian--God always gets last place but I'm determined to remain honest in my failings of heart and spirit.) Sigh.

So this will be the last time I ever see Mary Ann this side the grave and I have misgivings on the other side though friend Gayle who has been a Florence Nightingale to her has presented Christ so much better then I. Mary Ann has knowledge of Christ's gospel and my best hoped guess is that life has slowly sapped her energy and spirit and I may yet be surprised at judgement day. Actually the big surprise is there but for the grace of God I should not be there. But as I say He is long suffering (role mode for the Mrs.) and ever merciful.