Update.

Late Tuesday night I had made homemade mincemeat pie (sans meat) and what I thought were pumpkin pies: I had baked both half a large pumpkin and a large butternut squash and had refrigerated the guts, but I grabbed the wrong container from the fridge and so inadvertently made butternut squash pies. ( Honestly? You can't tell. )

Friday e'en, drove to Nuevo Jersey and spent two nights at Mom's place. Shopping at Boscov's was fruitless, but Value City had precisely the kind of winter coat I was looking for (much like yours, actually; CostCo had no such thing last time I looked) for $80 (minus 15% coupon). Mom watched me try it on and when I decided I was going to buy it, she said, "Merry Christmas!" and proceeded to pay for it herself. ( financial woes )

Sunday was lunch at Wendy's with my three remaining grandparents, after which I drove "Nanny" (my dead dad's mom) back to the veterans' home and headed from there back to D.C. Pockets of traffic (took local Delaware roads) but it could have been a lot worse.

P.S.: cat news

It was nice on Saturday evening to spent just a few seconds with B.J., Bob's and John's and Ramon's tumorous cat. I was a little afraid of how she'd be, but she didn't look or act particularly bad (and Bob just posted she's hanging in there and always hungry). She's a little dear and I will miss her badly on future visits.

In other cat news, Mom's looking to place her three felines, in preparation for fixing up and selling her mobile home and moving into RBJ's house, on the third floor (which means who knows where I'mon sleep when I visit).

Mickey and Minnie are littermates, 4.5 years old, almost entirely black, beautiful, and fairly good-natured. Minnie is shy, really a one-person cat I think. Mickey took a bit of time to warm up to me but is now aggressively affectionate, at times such that I need to go-away-boy-you-bother-me at him. Mickey is long and sleek and remarkably agile: he can jump 4 feet in the air and I've actually seen him balance on his hind legs and take a couple wobbly steps when food was being offered above his normal reach. Mom reasonably wants to place these two together since they've been together their entire lives.

Sasha (female, as opposed to my Sasha, who's a male) is 6 and looks like a Russian blue mixed with some ol' DSH. She's a real darling; I really wish I could see my way to taking her, but three cats in my little English basement really is too many. Plus I'd have two Sashas and it'd be confusing reprimanding them or even having human conversations about them. Sasha used to be an indoor-outdoor cat before Mom got her (2 years ago?); M&M have always been indoors.

Catveats: Mom's not the best cat person, has never effectively curtailed some scratching behaviors (and signed an agreement not to declaw M&M), but in a new place a new owner can start fresh and make sure they know they are NOT allowed to scratch furniture, doorjambs, trim, etc. Mom also feeds them too much, though none of them is obese (by contrast, I strictly limit what my cats eat and Tynchre is an enormous tub-o-lard).

So anybody knows anybody wants a cat or two, reply here.

Sonnet de la semaine. Ceci n'est pas un pipe.

I like your dick. I like it even more
Than Cap'n Crunch's peanut butter cereal
(Which sandpapers my gums, abrades them sore).
Ah, how authoritative, magisterial,
Resplendent is your dick; how de rigueur
To take it in my mouth and make it dance
Until it bathes my throat in swich liqueur
Of which vertu betented be my pants.
I like the way its doughiness, its play,
Its pliability remain intact
Till those few fevered strokes before you shoot,
And then: so round, so firm, so fully packed!
Above all other joys, I like the way
You tremble when I work it, stem and root.