Bye, Kitties!!!!!
Oh, they're gone, sniff sniff. I do miss them, but I must say I slept peacefully last night in harmony with my surroundings [mostly books, papers, and puzzles--every time I move, something crackles]. Once I woke up and thought I heard a cat jumping somewhere and then tensed up, knowing I could now go back to fearing the appearance of the Virgin Mary.
Doesn't every Catholic child imagine that Mary will appear to her, as she did to Bernadette and some other kids in Europe somewhere? I did. I prayed every night that she would decide NOT to honor me in that way.
"Becky!!! Wake up!!! It's me, Mary!!"
"Oh, no. Please."
"You must tell the world I was here, Becky. We must pray for Russia."
"Oh, but Mary, you have to understand. People already think I'm a little cuckoo. What would it do to my chick lit career?"
"Your what?"
"Never mind. I'm doing women's fiction now."
"I don't understand, Becky."
"That's all right. I don't think I do either. And don't worry about Russia. We already conquered them, I think. Sort of. They're all drinking themselves to death with vodka."
"Pardon me, my child?"
"Mary, I googled Bernadette the other day and noticed that she has beautiful manicured nails in her coffin. What's that all about?"
"Becky, you must have faith and not ask so many questions."
"That's what my agent keeps saying, Mary. And the produce guy at Hannaford's--he says it all the time. I got other situations too, Mary, can we talk about those? Mary? Where are you?" 
This will not be me if I can help it.
A bientot
love,Becky
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