Annabelle had been behaving oddly for the past two days, so I knew she was up to something. As I poured my first cup of coffee, I wondered what it was. I knew that she was excited that Halloween was coming soon. She and Thatch had been chattering about what they would wear when they … Continue reading 114. ANNABELLE’S HOUSE OF HORRORS →

I could hear the original cast recording of Hair blaring through the door of my apartment as soon as I stepped off the elevator. Jesus H. Christ, I thought, what have I caused this time? Why did I tell the cats about my Ohio life in the 1970s? I pushed the walker as fast as … Continue reading 113. THE NIGHT I DID NOT DROP ACID →

Stop hitting me with that stick! Annabelle snarled at me as I hobbled from the kitchen to the computer table. That “stick,” Missy, is a cane, I replied, and I just prodded you to make you move. This coffee is hot, and I cannot walk through you. Just move, please, I don’t want to fall … Continue reading 112. INDIAN SUMMER →

At least once a year, except for 2020, my friend Charles has driven in from Connecticut to visit, take photos of the cats, have a nice luncheon, and drive home with his station wagon loaded with cartons of books, CDs, and DVDs that I no longer need. He distributes the contents of these cartons to … Continue reading 111. ANNABELLE WITH AN “A” →

Annabelle! Annabelle! What did I do this time? I asked. Ignoring me, Annabelle stormed past me and vanished into the linen closet. She won’t answer, Thatch told me. She’s very angry with you. I turned to the dresser, where Thatch lay on his bed, a square carton about 12x12 containing three hundred plastic bags I … Continue reading 110. HAPPY! HAPPY! →

Thatch! I called. Come back with that. There is no nutritional value in eating cellophane! Thatch ran under the bed with the CD wrapping I had let fall onto the floor. There isn’t? Annabelle asked. She and Thatch had both run for the cellophane, but Thatch had reached it first. She jumped onto the computer … Continue reading 109. CELLOPHANE IS NOT A FOOD GROUP →

Annabelle and Thatch fretted about Monica, Mrs. Schmidt, and the trunk in the basement for some time. They pestered Val to look around the basement for more items belonging to either of these ladies, and at least once a week Annabelle made blatant hints to me to do something to trace the whereabouts of these … Continue reading 108. WHO IS MONICA? or THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED →

Stella, I muttered, you’ve been warned! You are skating on thin ice, Missy. What did Stella do this time, Daddy? Thatch asked. Well, she just bit me. And earlier, you know, she escaped into the hall, and I had to chase her down.  Two strikes! Annabelle laughed. Stella, one more and you’re out. She sat … Continue reading 107. TWO STRIKES DOWN →

Jesus, is it hot! I thought as my walker and I stepped off the elevator and headed to the apartment. The air was very warm and humid, and I moved very slowly down the hall. The temperature for the past week had been in the high 80’s and 90’s, and I could not wait to … Continue reading 106. THE TRUTH ABOUT CHRISTMAS →

It had been a quiet Fourth of July. The cats sulked because I had refused to take them to the Macy’s fireworks display.  They had badgered me for two days, but I refused.   Why? Annabelle demanded to know on the morning of the Fourth. My public hasn’t seen me since my Irish Rep performance, and they … Continue reading 105. FIREWORKS! →