Talk about BORING…the old woman Slow and one of the Little Women of Worsham Street (Badger’s mom) spent HOURS last night with my writing machine so I couldn’t even tell any of my stories from the past couple of days which, I have to tell you honestly, you didn’t miss much.   I’m not sure who’s coming, but any time Slow stirs around with her broom and endless cleaning supplies, I figure we must be having somebody visit.  And I think I heard her make an appointment yesterday for  moi  to have a last-minute visit to the groomer.   Yep, looks like company’s on the way for sure.   Oh, Brother, this is the same groomer who called the last time I went and asked Slow if she’d like me to look like a Welsh Terrier.   Hello.  Yes, that would be very nice, since I AM a Welsh terrier.  Or, butter my butt and call me a Biscuit if you’d prefer.  Heh, heh.  My little joke for the morning.  It’s early.

Pardon my digression.   And all of my transgressions while you’re at it.   It’s Lent and I’m a little late but I’ve decided to get in touch with my spiritual side and give up something.   I’m not sure about how much time I have left until Easter, but maybe it’s not too late to try giving up eating cat shit.   Yessiree, yessiree, yessiree.    Well, snap my paws and call me a Believer!   I’m giving up cat shit for Lent!  I’m in Withdrawal Already!!    The Red Man is doing without cat shit until Easter, and he’s hoping Easter is SOON!!   Come on, Easter Bunny, hop on along with your Bad Self and deliver me some chocolate eggs so I won’t be cravin’ cat shit…I’m talkin’ Easter Bunnies and those little melt-in-your-mouth-wrapped-in-shiny- pastel-colors-eggs.   I need me a dose of good old fashioned religion – just like the kind Granny Selma used to hold close to her heart.

Which brings me to Slow and Badger’s Mom last night.   They worked and worked and worked some more on this birthday present for Granny Selma.   They’d talk and talk and look at pictures and then talk and then look at pictures and then they’d put the pictures in my machine somehow and then they’d make pictures of the pictures and then they’d take them in the kitchen and cut them with some TOOL and then they taped them into these holes on a BIG FRAME.   They worked HOURS on this, let me tell you.  I got so tired of watching them I had to take a nap.

It looks pretty good – it’s all these different pictures of Granny Selma when she wasn’t as old as dirt, and they’re all birthday pictures except the one in the middle which is one of her pictures for the Church Directory at her Baptist Church from back in the days when she knew how to drive a car to church every Sunday – and get back home.   I guess we’ll be taking this to her when we visit her in jail tomorrow.   One of the guards told Slow they’re having a little birthday party for her in the afternoon with a chocolate cake.   I naturally assume I’ll be going, too.   Never count The Red Man out when it comes to a Party, and trust me on this one.  They need me for entertainment.

So, Happy Birthday, Granny Selma – here’s wishing you the best!   Adios, cat shit – bring on the Easter Bunny!