The festival started today. She'd left me at home - as she usually does when she goes to work - and the monster (aka Mikki the cat) has been freaking out due to harassment by the ginger tom from across the road, so of course she rushes home, feeds the cat, closes the window, cuddles the cat, changes into Writers Festival Clothes (yes, you read right and no, don't ask) and then patted the cat. Halfway ou thte door, remembered to shove me into the sock and then the handbag. The same capacious receptacle, yes, where I have spent many happy (!) hours in the past. On Cape Cod. In New York. Torino. Milano. Grand Plains, Nebraska. Bairnsdale. But it's been a while and now she's volunteerd me for this MWF blogging thing because she's too busy - like what's new - and so it's a 109 tram and Fed Square free-for-all.
Fine
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