Thank god Fred picked out the BIG freezer, huh? * * * Fred recently got a letter from a literary agent. Almost always when the mail comes, Fred’s still at work, and I call him and say “You got mail. Want me to open and read it to you?” And because he can’t stand to wait ’til he gets home, he always lets me. This particular letter was littered with misspellings and missing words. The funny thing, of course, is that this agent’s website has a bit on it about how important proofreading is. I’m so very tempted to correct the letter with a red pen and send it back to her, but I don’t guess that would be the best thing to do to an agent you’re hoping will represent your husband’s book. We have no guarantee that she has any kind of sense of humor, so doing that might just piss her off. But it’s still tempting. * * * Spot finally got fed up with all the rain keeping him in the house, and so he went out the cat door and sat on the outside window ledge, which is mostly protected from rain as long as it comes straight down. Miz Poo did not approve. * * * This would be an example of Spot spazzing when he’s out laying in the yard and we go out back to do something. He runs like hell for the cat door, like he’s not supposed to be out there. It’s ironic that it took Spot so long to start using the cat door, and now he’s outside more than any other cat, including Fancypants. Wait. Is that true irony, or just Alanis irony? It’s been too long since my college English courses… * * * Miz Poo sure does love her Momma…]]>