Maybe she should write my blog, too.

Still have a bit of catching up to get caught up with, but that shouldn’t be a problem. I have learned the art of delegation.

That laundry basket is older than I am. Some of my earliest memories are of playing in that basket. Carrying cats around in it. Even using it for it’s actual given purpose eventually.

I was cleaning out my mother’s apartment after she passed. I filled the basket with clothes from the hall closet, took them to the bedroom to pack, and set the basket down on the bed. Right next to an identical basket. I stared in amazement.¬†Somehow I had managed to live well into my thirties, and had even just spent a full week using both of them to sort through that small apartment,¬† without ever realizing that there were two of them.

One of my favorite mysteries of my mind. Not terribly compelling, just terrifically baffling.

Here is a picture of our kitten Diggity for reasons I consider to be self evident.

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