There are so many thoughts racing around the sparkly little carousel I call a mind, that I am not sure where to begin, as there is really no beginning. Just a roundy-round twirl of information and opinions about kittens, and I believe my point has been made abundantly clear.

I'm still coming down off the great high that was my birthday last Wednesday (cards and floral tributes still welcome), a stellar and marathon event which featured the following highlights:

• Many greyhounds (of the alcoholic, rather than the canine, variety)


• A 12-gauge pump-action shotgun fired repeatedly by me, Violet


• An airhorn, also operated by me


• A couple of screwdrivers (of the alcoholic, rather than hardware-ical, variety)


• Purloined cake, strawberry variety


• Silly Putty


• Possibly illegal secret moonlight beach barbecue with tiki torches, to the tune of Loudon Wainwright's "Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road"


• A new (to me) 12-string guitar from the Keelhauler, prompting a performance of my great new soon-to-be-hit song, "Call Me (When You're Old Enough to Drink)"


• A four-leafed clover


• Many other beloved favorites!

I received many excellent cards, but I especially want to mention the one I got from the Keelhauler. While very sweet, he's not big on written expressions of affection, which made this year's offering that much more valuable. I'll post it tomorrow--today, it's still at the Vatican, awaiting papal validation as a miracle.

And now, back to work.

(This means you, too.)

Oh and P.S.!

Here's a little helpful advice for writing thank-you notes.

Star of the day. . .Mathrock, aka Perma-Shaka, for his belated birthday