When evenings are cold, I settle under the electric blanket on the couch. Sometimes Fred’s cold, too, so I share my blanket with him. Inevitably, Mister Boogers gets in on the warmth, and stretches out and sleeps the sleeps like a log.

Whenever I get groceries, as I empty the bags, I leave them on the kitchen floor. Tommy comes running in and writhes around on them for some reason. Whatever makes him happy, I s’pose.


2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.

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