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Victoria’s Lizard……

June 3, 2013

Vic. Liz.#2 web

Oh, heavens to Murgatroyd, what next?

All I wanted this week was a little peace and quiet. After raising four
rambunctious kittens in my bathroom, complete with all-night fights
and much clanging of food bowls with tiny yowls of outrage, I was looking
forward to blessed silence, and that rarest of all commodities, a full
night’s sleep. Hope springs eternal.

It took a lot of patience to calm Heather down when we first adopted the pregnantstray cat, because as we all know, much as we all love our Heather, she is given to hysteria at the drop of a hat. Squawking.
Losing her feathers all over Skosh’s bedroom…the works…but eventually,
when she was assured that no one was going to harm her or even “look at her
funny”as she put it, she was mollified. Mina the cat and Heather even
became, if somewhat guardedly, friends. When the kittens arrived, she
was overjoyed and we all played with them often, especially Heather.

Which is kind of why the trouble started.

The babies were beginning to be allowed to explore various parts of the house and
we decided that it would be fairly simple to ease them into full freedom by letting them play parts of the day on Skosh’s bed and when evening came, they could go back to
their little “bedroom” as it were. Clang. Scratch. Yowl. However, on the day of the Great Betrayal, they were frolicking on the bed and Heather and Skosh were playing with them, very carefully in Skosh’s case since he gets a little overheated and smoky when he
forgets himself. That pesky dragonfyre, you know…anyway, once again, I digress.

On this particular day, one of the littles managed to get under Skosh’s bed and before he could stop her, Heather dove after the tiny mite and was halfway under the bed when she
Stopped stock still and the ensuing silence was deafening. Skosh made the grievous error of asking what the holdup was and Heather came shooting out from under the bed,
her beak clamped shut and both wings full. One holding the kitten, and the other holding a catalogue.

A Victoria’s Lizard catalog. Open to the thong page. Under Skosh’s bed. Silence.

Then; chaos. The tiny beak opened and the most amazing fount of profanity I have ever heard from even the most tattooed and spitting construction worker came spewing forth.
From dainty little Heather. Whoda thunk it? But I must say, I was impressed at the volume and creative co-mingling of terms. The gist of it was, of course, that Skosh not only didn’t love her, and had been lying to her ALL THIS TIMEBRRRRAWWWWKKKK but he was a Pig and a Beast and a Perve (well…point taken) but he didn’t deserve her and she never ever ever wanted to see him again and he could take his cards and his flowers that he bought her and the almost diamond beak stud he got for her and shove them up…Well.

Needless to say, when one of us in this house is involved, so are we all, and I put the kittens back in their room to keep them out of the line of fire and scurried like the brave soul I am for my own room. Line of fire can be the genuine article around here, alas.
I could hear Heather’s repeated drone attacks through my door and was considering a little lie-down under my own bed when I heard her begin to weep, copiously and noisily with much HEEEPing of the intake of bird-breath and moist beak-blowing and though I
was not sure of the outcome I was pretty certain that I would not have to alert the volunteer fire department this time. It’s these tiny victories that make life sunny.

Apparently, Heather had finally run out of her strings of profanity…it took awhile, I had no idea she knew so many horrible words but then I remembered her mother and the
long afternoon martini lunches that Heather had paid court to before she and Skosh became friends and I more or less inherited her. Ahh. I guess she finally found a use for all of the ‘Ladies’ colorful language. Well all right then.

When I finally emerged from the safety of my personal no-fly zone, it seemed that Skosh had managed to calm Heather and all was, if not well, at least there was a temporary truce while Skosh attempted to explain his “disgusting behavior, you f———–b—tftt—-glff—
Mgrrr—-‘ well, you get the idea. It seems that he was innocent of all charges (oh yeah)
and while yes, the catalog is his and he admits that freely, but wait. (here it comes…)
“Honey-Fluff, this isn’t what it looks like.” Oh Skosh. Really. But he is only 15 (after a fashion) so I guess he either hasn’t heard that old saw before, or hasn’t used it before.

They retired to Skosh’s room, Heather somewhat reluctantly, and my scaly simpleton of a son attempted to talk his way out of being caught red-clawed with the ‘evidence’. According to him, he asked a friend at school if he could have her copy of the catalog in question when she was through with it because (now read closely because this is the slick part) he thought he would order something from it for Heather and surprise her with a little sexy something, even though whatever it was could never be as sexy as she was. It would pale in comparison to Heather’s loveliness. But in his own humble way, he was trying to pay homage to his #1 hottie. (Pretty good, huh??)

When I left for my weekly forage trip to Trader Joe’s, Skosh and Heather, all cuddly and cooing once again, were happily leafing through the catalog in question, hunting for the perfect piece of lingerie for the chubby little feathered supermodel of Skosh’s dreams.

It may cost Skosh a piece of change, but all in all, it was a pretty good save, don’tcha think?
Posted by Susan

When they aren’t herding cats, and honestly, when aren’t they? Dennis and Susan make and sell art of various kinds. You can see examples of their work at http://www.etsy.com/shop/digiprintskishowen (Galerie Yggdrasil)
To paraphrase the wisdom of Ceiling Cat: Srsly,buy some art. Help with the kitteh chow fund.

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Ms Mina & The Cat Pack

May 25, 2013

Mina
Dennis and I know we are suckers. I, particularly, was afflicted with a sign grafted to my back from birth that says “I can be had if you have fur and act as if you are homeless and hungry”. We know this, intellectually, but we have never gotten past becoming emotional prune whip when faced with a cat or kitten in distress.

Sensitive plant, can't believe he landed in a weed patch

Sensitive plant, can’t believe he landed in a weed patch

We lost our beloved Leonardo on the afternoon of March 3rd. On the 4th we received a call from a neighbor asking us if we knew anyone who would take 8 cats who had been abandoned by their owner who had been evicted from her home and left them all. Needless to say, we went to the house with a bag of cat food to see if we could at least leave some food and water for them until animal services could find homes for them. We couldn’t see any cats when we got there, except a young Siamese lady who asked politely if perhaps we might not have a little bite of something that would otherwise go to waste, and my goodness, is that a cat carrier you have there? Why, how thoughtful, don’t mind if I do.

Thus we came to add Wilhelmina Shadowcat Trumpetlungs to our hearth and home, and unbeknownst to us, she had a gift of her own which she presented to us on April 3rd….four beautiful kittens. Three of them were black with small white horned moons on their tummies, and one was strangely like, well, Leonardo. Not quite as austere and above the fray, as Dito was, but there he was in this kitten’s clear blue eyes, eyes aware and intelligent even when he first opened them, eyes that said, as Leonardo’s eyes had said , “Obey me.”
Fam pic web

It has been a trifle, ummm….urgent at times, trying to juggle Mina, kittens, and the family we already had, one of whom hisses at everyone anyway so who cares, and Dexter, who is sorely wounded and has managed to purr and growl at the same time, rather like a Tibetan throat singer. It hasn’t been easy, but we shall work it out, and then perhaps once everyone is on speaking terms (I hope growling can be construed as speaking in some circles) we can have a birthday party for the kittens…..and, of course, a reincarnation party for Leonardo, whom I know in my little black heart orchestrated this whole circus. It’s his style for certain, sitting back calmly and watching me stagger through juggling cat food plates and enduring sleepless nights full of outraged yowlings. Thank you, Dito, I love you.
Can’t say I miss you, since you’re still here.- Susan.

Ps; The miniature bureau. I was photographing it to make a reference picture for Susan to use in designing sculpture for our newest collaboration: The Bureau of Fear. As you can see it’s impossible to take a picture in our house without a kitten in the shot. D-2 web We’re calling The first young man Dtwo for now but he could decide otherwise as he seems to be developing a spotted coat. Dweezil webThe other youngster
answers to Dweezil, Frank Zappa’s son and the voice of Ajax in the Duckman series.
You can tell from their pictures that Dtwo is firmly on this side of the portal, but Dweezil is clearly between worlds.-Dennis

Pps; There’s a new Skosh tale coming soon.

Visit Susan and Dennis at Galerie Yggdrasil our Etsy store

Aspic aspects……..

March 24, 2013

Chef Skosh web

I know, I know…it sounds suspicious.  But it’s true, I swear.  heh.

Skosh and I share a birthday, which makes things a trifle hectic, or did until I decided that I would have no further birthdays, thank you very much.  We were both born on february first,  and usually planned very little except to do things for Skosh that pleased him.  This year we decided on a communal party, because Tad and Vlad were march babies some years back…many many years, since they are vampires, albeit vegan, and tend not to grow old and die.  None of them will tell us exactly when they were born, but one of these days I’ll get it out of Mina.  She gets a little goofy if she has too many virgin marys.

This year,  Skosh wanted a more hands (?) on approach to the party since his friends were being feted as well, so he decided to make something special for the vegan vamps:  a lovely, classy tomato aspic, and he wanted to make it from scratch, and he wanted to do it all, oh dear, himself.  Alone.  I have reservations about just exactly how classy an aspic is.  They bring to my mind a combination of Marcel Proust and middle-western pot luck suppers, held in the church basement, but that’s just me.  So. …Ah.  So.

Into the kitchen thundered my son Skosh,  armed to the fangs and neck ribbons with cookbooks, spatulas, molds, wooden spoons, whisks and all manner of culinary detritus that he thought he might possibly need.  I have found from long, trying experience that whatever you bring with you is exactly what you will never need, but I refuse to start Skosh off on his first cooking experience with my jaded commentary, so off he went.

“First,” he said, “I need to….ummm….ummmmmm…..MOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!”

Right you are, and off we went to the local grocery store for aspic supplies, without which all the utensils in the world are as dross.  Those of you familiar with Skosh know how distracted he gets when faced with a seemingly limitless amount of comestibles, so this is an outing I was not looking forward to with any joy, but we seem to have made it through without much trouble.

Much.

We had what passes for a list with Skosh, since he works over it with tongue hanging out of mouth for hours and then either leaves it at home or ignores it completely when we get to the grocer’s.   the latter was to be my trial on this particular foray.   And I had thought it would be worry-free.  Foolproof.  When will I learn?

I trotted around uneasily behind Chef from aisle to aisle, granting inclusion to some items and putting the kibosh on others, sometimes with an overt threat attached.

“Fresh cilantro?   Kudos, Skosho!  Great idea!  That will make the tomato flavor pop with just the right…..Drano????  Are you out of your…Skosh!  I don’t care about the color of the container,  Drano is…SKOSH!!  PUT IT BACK  BEFORE I…” you get the idea.

At last we gathered the ingredients of choice and rooted around in the cupboards at home for whatever we had forgotten and finally the Grappling Gourmet was ready to put his piece de resistance together.  Alone.  By himself.

Over my dead body.  We’re talking my kitchen here.  Besides, he needed me (heheheheh)  to measure things for him since measuring spoons and cups do not meld well with large scaly claws, comely though said claws may be.  So.  Here I go with the gelatin that so fascinated my multicolored son and his ladyfriend, Heather, who insisted on helping with what should have been a simple salad, but when oh when has anything been simple in the land of Skosh and Heather?

1 ½ tablespoons of gelatin later, it was sitting calmly in a tablespoon of cold water and Skosh was grating onion.  Now then.  I have never heard anyone swear in Drago, so I wasn’t really sure what I was hearing, I did know that it was not intended for polite company  and yet I couldn’t reprimand my son because I had no idea what exactly it was that I was….but I digress.  (Can anyone out there translate ‘MnmnplplplHHHPH**9’ for me?)  Whatever it is,  it made Heather molt, just a little.

To avoid one of Heather’s signature panic attacks, I asked her to juice the lemons that I managed to talk Skosh into getting in place of the mango he originally insisted on and she fell to with a will.

Meanwhile, I chopped some fresh, fragrant celery and threw in the cilantro at the last, chopping both together to create culinary bliss.

We made our own tomato juice in the food processor, using homegrown tomatoes for the best flavor, and straining it several times to get all the seeds and skin out.  MMMMMM nom nom nom.  A little Worcestershire sauce, just a jot.  It was a little touch and go for awhile after we added all the ingredients together to get the decorative slices of tomato that Skosh had decided upon  to hold to the sides of the mold while we were pouring the aspic into it, which apparently called for more Dragonian swearing, but at last it was ready to go into the icebox to chill and set for a minimum of four hours.  With relief, I sent Heather and Skosh off to his room for a computer game, probably Kill and Dismember II, until the aspic was ready to remove from the mold, set on the plate with garnish, and cover to wait for the party the next day.

At last:  the moment arrived, and we gathered in the kitchen for the great Unveiling.  Out of the mold without incident the glorious masterpiece came (whew) and sat upon the party tray like a sultan…for about three minutes.  Skosh reached for it to admire it from all angles, and what I had thought to be an inanimate object stood up on its tiny but apparently strong legs, leapt into the air with a will of its own, and was off through the living room as if on wings.

SKOSH!!!!!!  WHAT DID YOU SAY TO THAT ASPIC????

Well.  After a little coaxing, it seems that the Drago cursing contained a little spell, erumum, mom, that is it was only a little one to make it easy to erumumum make it come out of the mold okay, it was umumum,  I read up and it was supposed to not be dangerous and gee no fire, see, none, erumumum….

Skossssssh.  Go. Get.  That. Infernal salad.  Now!!

Last I saw of my son, he and the aspic were playing a game of Antic Hay Tag out in the back yard, with the aspic winning two falls out of three.  Heather and I  are at present in my room, hunched over my laptop, drooling over off-price Prada bags.

A delightful way to spend the latter part of a rather messy and slightly magick (and not in a good way) afternoon.

I am so glad I thought ahead and made another aspic last night while all were safely in their beds.  A perfectly normal, quiet, legless and wingless aspic.  Life is good.

Posted by Susan. Find more Skosh stories at  Galerie Yggdrasil  our etsy store.

Wall Street…

December 11, 2012

WallStreet web rev

It takes a village to make the street…..


Reading from the upper left corner across the page to the lower right corner like a book.

1)Doris Day Hyland is stuck in the 50’s.  Her mommy and daddy left her a lovely little portfolio of stocks, she thinks they are stocks, anyhow, but she is helpless when it comes to financial matters so she needs to wait until she catches  a husband to have him handle it for her.  Women are just no good at these things.

2)  Elrond Flench is the lead shrieker in an up and coming slasher band, Larj Yntestyn. Although he is sure that his band will be HUGE, he is very cautious and conservative in his investments, because after all, you never know for certain.

3)  Sarah Glumstein doesn’t trust banks.  They’re out to get you, you can’t trust ’em, but she makes sure that her son morty, the doctor, invests part of his formidable income monthly.  Morty is a gynecologist at Feldman Hospital, and she wants him to be able to afford to have a wing put on the hospital in her name before she goes to her reward.  God grant it should be soon, with all her suffering, but not before the wing is built.

4)  Kimber Lee Slutsky.  Kimber has the intellectual powers of a pound of Velveeta, and the attention span of a mayfly.  Stock market?  Ew.  Kimber doesn’t give a happy rat.

5) This is Lika.  She is a supermodel who lives on lettuce leaves carefully spread with dijon mustard and pharmaceutical cocaine. Lika gets paid $7,500 an hour to slump sensually on antique loveseats wearing couture that costs more than she makes.  Lika doesn’t give a happy rat, either.

6)  These two gentlemen are our brokers.  Erik is certain that his investments and his relationship with Bill are forever secure.  Bill is not so sure.  He has been seeing Carlos on the side.  Carlos is much too young and the relationship cannot possibly go anywhere, and he does want to be with Erik for the long haul…but still.

7)  This is Rusty.  He is 11 and cannot really purchase stocks on his own without his father’s credit card…about which we shall say no more.  Rusty checks the stock market on line in the morning before school, in the afternoon when he gets home, and last thing at night before bed.  His future is crystal clear to him.  When he is older he will be ruthless, relentless, cold and calculating, and will be the most powerful man in the country by the age of 35.

8) Myra Fielding (of the Boston Fieldings) married well and nagged her husband into an early grave.  He left her almost insanely well off, leaving her mountains of stocks, bonds, property and laundered accounts in the Caymans.  Even so, Myra still argues with the butcher, the grocer, and her hairdresser to get the prices of her purchases reduced, and ridiculously underpays her staff.  She does this because she can, and because she hates everyone and everything.  No, she isn’t a sad lonely woman.  She really really likes being a nasty bitch.

9)  “Fat Flash” Del Mar is Myra’s gardener and the only human being that Myra likes, however grudgingly.  She pays him more than anyone else could even dream of getting from her.  Flash knows about the Caymans. He knows a lot.  he plays bass guitar in Elrond’s band in his off time just for fun.

10)  This is Susie.  She and Rusty have been best friends since kindergarten and they have similar lifestyle plans.  Susie checked around with all the local banks until she found the one giving the best interest on long-term savings and she and Rusty have been salting away their allowances, Rusty’s New York Times paper route, and Susie’s baby sitting money, for two years.  When they are old enough they will marry and become the Masters of the Universe.

11)  Charlette has been careful with his investments.  He has sold when necessary, bought when the time was right, and as a result has made far more than she needs to complete her sex change operation and still live the life he has chosen for herself.  Atta boy,  Charlette.

12)  This throwback is Gort.  His father is a wealthy industrialist and so Gort has been able thus far to devote his life to skateboarding and Ecstasy.  Daddy has always doted on his tattered scion, but of late has been running out of patience.  Quickly.  Gort is in for a big,nasty surprise very soon.

13)  Emily Brown is an ex-kindergarten teacher.  The ex- part is due to her spare the rod, spoil the child attitude.  She told the parents of the child in question that it was just a scratch, the child was notorious for not listening, and anyway young children don’t scar the way adults do, but the parents were just so unreasonable.  In any case, due to her careful planning, she will soon be able to sell enough of her stock to open her own preschool.

4)  This is DeQuon Williams.  He is home from his studies at the Sorbonne for a few weeks to visit his family.  He speaks English, French, German and Swahili.  Thanks to his careful stock purchases all through high school, he is able to pay his way through college and grad school with plenty left to start his own business.

15)  Say hello to Chastity Bent, a conservative fundamentalist Christian.  She has bought stock pretty much willy-nilly by opening the bible, pointing to a passage with her eyes closed, and buying whatever stock she believes God showed her with his holy word.  If she loses money, well, that was God’s will, and besides, she can always make more at her profession as a high-end call girl.

Posted by Susan. You can purchase Wall Street (with all the stories printed on a separate sheet) at  Galerie Yggdrasil   Our Etsy store.

Good Taste…..

November 29, 2012

Charlie Tuna was a spokesfish for Starkist in the 1960’s. Wearing a beret, shades, and living in an underwater pad, his all- encompassing desire was to be selected by Starkist for consumption, but it never happened. Starkist wanted tuna that tasted good, not a fish with good taste. IMPORTANT CULTURAL LESSON. If you want to fit in, taste good (and be eaten by your culture) don’t stand out or have good taste (taste funny) Inedible cultural units become left overs, and sit in the back of the ‘fridge until they’re fed to the dog. Charlie finally decided to travel forward in time to see what the future held, unfortunately, the time machine traveled through a parallel universe  consisting of Velveeta  processed cheese food, resulting in the well known phenomenon, TUNA MELT.

Posted by Dennis, who has impeccable taste and is therefore inedible—hey, ask anyone!

Visit Galerie Yggdrasil  our Etsy store for all sorts of tasteful stuff and insure your inedibleity.

Variations…..

November 26, 2012

Here are two of the latest variations on this post

containing a cropped photo of a sunset.  The first is titled Piscis Rex with a tip of the hat to  Freeman Gosden and Charles Correll

The second piece is titled Tapestry. I’m continuing to find new ways to create visual texture . Sorry about the printing over the images, but I’ve discovered how easy it is to print from a WordPress blog!

Posted by Dennis. Bre sure to visit Galerie Yggdrasil our Etsy store, where we have many new prints for sale at very affordable prices.

Demon Lover…….

October 24, 2012

“Demon Lover” takes its title from a short story by Shirley Jackson that I read many years ago and which had drifted to the dusty unused nether realms of my mind, until I saw this pomegranate and divined its true nature.  I lust after pomegranates and wait like a spider for the eruption of this lovely fruit every October, and the two in this photo were part of my last year’s hoard.  When I broke open the first one I saw something forbidden in it…..gleaming teeth, fresh blood, a fierce and fiendish threat….all the things I hold so dear.

I had to have it forever to bring back the glee I felt at its appearance, so I photographed it and after the photo was printed, it looked even better (worse…whatev…..).  In any case, every pomegranate I have had since that one has been a mere innocent and loving fruit, but I now treat poms with the utmost respect and tender care.

I have been warned.  We have all been warned.

Posted by  ” (I warned you!)” Susan.

Visit Susan and Dennis at Galerie Yggdrasil Our Etsy shop

For information on the Skosh  book

Open Studio

October 17, 2012

We are currently in the midst of the  San Luis Obispo  Arts Council Open Studios tour

For you non-Californians, the County of San Luis Obispo is named for Saint Louis of Toulouse

Here are some pictures taken before people started arriving.

The path to our door.

Sredini Vashtar, our  resident critic and official greeter, meditates on the mysteries of  Ceiling Cat

And of course Skosh is here, touting his new book

Come and visit us if you can!

Posted by Dennis.

Introducing

September 14, 2012

Welcome Stigmont Ghiardelli Longkitten Raisin Earl Scruggs, the newest member of the Hairy tapestry. Stig joined us as a media design consultant recently and is fitting right in. You can see him below in earnest conversation with Sredni Vashtar our in house critic, about the cover design for the new  Skosh book

I mean really earnest conversation.

After a hard day in the studio our boy relaxes and says; “Get my agent please”.

Posted by Dennis.

Visit Susan and Dennis at  Galerie Yggdrasil  Our Etsy store.

Graphophobia…..

August 9, 2012

Skosh, Skosh ,Skosh…….

SKOSH GET UP!!

grbnyzdaenerysfzt? um. erumum mom? wha….

You promised that you would do a post for the blog yourself last week and I have barely seen you except at meals.  Now….where is the post?  What on earth have you been….SKOSH!  WAKE….oy.

We all decided some time back that it would be fun to make up a ledger, or a book, or something that chronicled the things that the group of youths that congregate at my home do, so that people could read it and enjoy the kids’ exploits as much as we all did.  At least most of the time.  There was that cloudy afternoon that I had to spend hours cleaning Jif Super Chunky and Nyquil off the ceiling of the kitchen, but times like that were rare.  Mostly.

I had hoped that I could talk Skosh into doing the blog himself but so far I have had nothing but frustration in this endeavour so I guess I  am going to have to gh[89[8**LMF  all right, Skosh, you may have the laptop.  A little less abruptly, if you please.

WH…FT..she never tells the troof.  I did the blog like a hundred timeztokTOK but the dog ated it. Well yeah but Mom…but…okay, SOMEBODYZ dog ated it.  Anyhow what the dealz are are, umerer, we did aTOK lot of stuff all of us didz, and we well okay not us but

What do you mean start over, Mom?  Anyhow we are making this booktokwhsssh.  Or Mom did.  Is.  Me and Heathie and Neck and Mina and Jon and Tad andVladtoktkk we did a bunch of coooool stuuuuuf and Mom and me decided to writez about it.  Or Mom didz. Is.

AAAAAAAnyhow, okay okay Mom, the bookz are done and they are WAY WAY WAY COOL  and so are the pitchersez Mom took.  Drawed.  Whatev.   OKAY MOM, OKAY!!

Straight up, the bookz are ready for all our FANZ WOO hoo to buy from Mom.  They are $60 each with $5 shipping and Mom thinks she is cool YES YOU DO TOO uh oh I yeld sorry Mom i’ll sweep them up when they cool down.

You bet you will, you  undisciplined scalemeister, you.

OKAY OKAY MOM oooopsheh.  Sorry.  Again.  More clinkers heh.
I’ll do it myself, I knew I would have to, he does tend to get a little sidetracked..it’s the shapeshifter of it.  One never know who, or what, one is going to be next, do one?  The books are all being made by hand and printed on acid free paper. They cost $60 each with $5 shipping, as Skosh says.  If you would like to have one, we will accept checks and money orders sent directly to us and you can contact us at skoshbook@gmail.com and we will get right back to you with mailing info.  Each book will be signed, and if you so desire I will be happy to autograph it to whomever you choose.  Every print in the book will also be signed and numbered in case some Philistine or another wants to take the book apart and mat the prints.  If you would rather pay with a credit card, or paypal we will put one on Etsy with your name on it  you can buy  through  Galerie Yggdrasil , our Etsy store.  The books are, indeed, pretty way way cool.

Heather just came in with Mina and they say BTDubs, everyone totally NEEDS this book for reals, and there will be a new book beginning to be written next month and the blog posts will begin then as well since it is time to take Skosh to the Monterey Aquarium for his birthday and all the Krewe is going.  Should be a real….rout.

Oh, help.  A martini and a nap? Two very large olives.  Ahh, if only.  – Posted by Susan.