A Slow Tortoise

John and I are still racing to 200. Remember my mentioning the tortoise and the hare? How slow can a tortoise go and still be considered moving? I have become so desperate that I almost had oats for breakfast this morning. I settled on a bowl of Honey Scooters and an orange. Yesterday I had two kosher dill pickles, several cherub tomatoes, and a helping of salsa. As the day progressed I noticed I was having a bit of trouble with an acid stomach. Four Tums took care of the problem.

Speaking of oats, my brother called yesterday morning to tell me a sacrilege had been committed in his house. He said Mom, who has eaten plain oats probably every morning for about 70 years, had come home from the grocery store with a packet of instant oats, seasoned with flavoring. Charles said he almost fainted.

All nine of us were at the house for chili turkey hot dogs last night. We also had some red beans and rice. We all laughed a lot. Family is a blessing.

Humor helps. Caleb and I are talking about building some type of structure at our new door in order to let Jake and Millie return to their perch on the deck. The only problem is, everything we think of that would let the dogs return, would also make it impossible for the door to open. We fear Ruth would veto this.