Jasper Louise, aka Chubby Ann, died this past Sunday evening, after a rapid decline in health this past week. She was never the prettiest or the most lovable cat, but she was loved nonetheless, for her quirky sense of humor and her assertive personality. She was buried in the front yard, in a private twilight service, and laid to rest with a peanut donut between her paws, and a Japanese maple overhead.
It's just been one of those weeks, you guys. I'm sure you know the kind: dying animals underfoot, requiring round the clock attention; children on a bad brat kick, because you're not paying attention to them (grrr); I've caught Bea's cold, or something like that, and to top off the fun here at the Edge, my left eye is all red and swollen up. Pink eye? Pollen? Excessive crying messing up the tear ducts? Who the hell knows.
Plans for Bea's Not My Birthday Party/Vernal Equinox Celebration are moving ahead. If you're going to be in the RDU area on March 21st, and want to come, let me know. The more the merrier! After Ms. Q's visit this past weekend, with a rainbow of Izze fruit sodas in hand, we've decided that Izzes might be the perfect mixer with vodka for the big day.
Apologies all around from me: I've been a bad blog friend this past week, what with all the hoopla going on. Forgive me, I will be trying to catch up this week.
Bea, the girl who used to blog, is armpit deep in beaus right now. I know - she's all bemused by this turn of events as well! I keep telling her that she should spill the dirt with all of us, via writing a post (hint, hint, Bea!), but she's keeping her cards close to her much sought after chest these days. Tell her you want to know all the dirt, won't you?