Keeckeen eed orp a nartch...

All I need ees a beret an' a forgheen baguedde ondhair my arm.

The Wooman ees ad worgh. The Smoothman wen' sharpeen' por bebe clothes. Por me.

Dios mio. When weell eed en'?

All a cad wanted to do was wash a leedle.

Yoomans.

Ordhair cads

Sormworn has been cheeteen' arn me.

Am I nard goo' denorf no more?

Bioladed

...ees whad I yam.

There was some talgh een my carmments 2 poseds ago, abou' my "fichu", my "larkett", my "beeb".

Sheet. Couldn't you hab dorn me a fabour an' kepd your beeg mouths short???

LOOGH WHAD THE WOOMAN HAS DORN TO ME!!!!!


*&%*^^$#

Whyporque??

Todal oberreaction.

I hab small plaze arn my shouldhair, whad I yab been leckeeen'. Leeckeen' leeckeen' leeckeen'.

So whad? Ees my forr.

Bod the Wooman say eed ees open woun' (muy pequeno) and I mos' wear a collar. She feel ber' sorry por me (thees mos' be a Fors') and so she cort a sarft collar oud ob a Damask nabkin. The alternateeb, I yam told, ees plasteec collar or cadsuit.

Sheet.

She has poot Bactroban, ees South Afreecan antibioteec, arn the smallplace (muy pequeno) and thad ees whad I yab been leeckeeen' arf!

She says they weel Obserb me to see eef eed worgh.

Shordly afthair she toogh thees peec I heed the camera. Pleease to remembhair, I broghe the las' camera.

Obserb thad, I say.

Doan' forgh weeth me.

More bad news

Ay. Ees sad news. So onexpeghed. My brorder een Eenglan', Sollie, ees dead. Heer ees leddhair frarm Anne:

I write with sad news I'm afraid - neither Lennie [Sollie's brorder] or Flora [darg weeth blarg] can face talking about it and asked me to tell you that Sollie was put to sleep yesterday after a very difficult three weeks of not being able to eat. Right up until the end he was perky and loving and still insisted on going out. I am amazed at his courage and at his spirit. The vet performed many tests and eventually came to the conclusion that the left hand side of his gullet was not functioning, maybe due to a recent trauma of some sort, and he was unable to eat. Unfortunately they could offer no hope of any sort of recovery except for trying steroid injections. I felt that he had suffered enough and could ask no more of him, and anyway the injections would not have helped the problem.

It has all been very, very sad and we weep at the gap in our lives. However, we also remember the way he filled the house and our hearts with his quirky and affectionate little ways.

Sorry to add to your sadness over the passing of poor Khedi with even more bad news.

I yam so sorry, Anne. I doan' know whad to say. Pleease geeb Lennie a leeck arn the head por me.An' i sen' beeg porrs to you. The darg weell be OK.

I yam a sad cad.

Sorm soyyestions

Fors' ob all, wadge whad you are sayeen'...I yam all ears, an' I yam tagheen' nodes.

Secon' ob all: why are you steell geddeen' papehair beells frarm CarnEdeesorn? I though' you tole' them no mas? Hole' them accountable!

Thor': Thees table ees clottered: eef you mos' receib Elle Decoration, pleease actually read eed and lorn frarm your bedhairs.

Fourth: I yab noticed thad fresh Nedfleeghs enbelopes are berber' slow een arribeen'. Thees ees onasseptable. I need new sorplies.

Thad's eed por now. Chegue bag ladehair.

Keeddy Leet-hair

Frarm the Nuebo York Times.

Dear Diary:

Early one recent morning, I was packing for the weekend. I would carry my luggage to work and not come back until Monday. But I needed to change my cat’s litter. I had to find a store in my Riverdale neighborhood that was open at 6:30 a.m.

I decided to run toward the shopping areas, carrying a small day pack, in the hope of finding an open store. And it was raining. I ran about half a mile until I came to a shopping street, but jogging up and back, getting wetter, I found all the shutters down. Turning to go home, I saw a brightly lit convenience store.

A man looked down at me from a platform behind the counter. “Do you have kitty litter?” I asked.

He looked questioningly at me.

“Kitty litter,” I repeated, holding my hands to represent a 10-pound bag, wet and dripping in my running shorts.

He spoke in Korean to a younger man, who pointed down the aisle, and then led me to the end. He reached up and brought down a small, white, furry stuffed kitten and handed it to me. Robert A. Miller

Gracias

Storbie - please post on your blog that I am so touched by the response to Kehdi's departure.

When I met Kehdi, she was perched on the back of a big armchair in the home of breeders of Maine Coones and when she saw me, she opened her little mouth and said, loudly: Weh weh (take me)!

When I saw her on her last day, in a raggedy bundle just inside the front door, she opened her little mouth and nothing came out. But I know she said "help me". At both times, I did.

Kehdi's sad mom