I am not getting published in the Fort Myers News-Press any more. I had a really short letter that appeared about a month ago. That’s it. The new editors have decided not to like me and it may be they have a grudge against the editor who left, who used me a lot. Sort of a way of dissing us both. I still send them my opinions. The climate at the paper might change. The Tribune Publishing Company is trying to buy Gannett. If they succeed, I might get published again.

Meanwhile, I have also been posting the opinions I send them on my Facebook page, but when I return to my page to look for my post, I don’t find it. And scrolling down doesn’t uncover it either. Can anyone explain that? Would appreciate insights.

My friend John broke his femur while walking Buster. The dog got excited when he saw a bunch of Ibis (funny-looking birds with hooked beaks) on a lawn, and ran after them, jerking John off balance. He had a seat-walker, but it was in the wrong position and didn’t break his fall. So he’s in the hospital. They insist he be transferred to a rehab unit, and he just wants to come home. But they're doing the medical Nazi thing. Most people don't realize they really do have the power to self-discharge so long as they sign a waiver. Anyway, I think he needs the rehab, and they can't operate because of his heart problems.

Billy, John's neighbor across the street, walks Buster in the morning and I go over at 4:30, feed him his wet food, and walk him. I have also provided some light housekeeping because nothing is more daunting than coming home severely compromised and being faced with dirty dishes and a dirty bed. Then I go back at 9:30 at night and give Buster a final walk, because he’s an old dog now and needs to go again. It’s interesting to be out and about when it’s black out there. I used my bike once, but I couldn’t see the road, even with bike lights. I thought I might easily ride into a hedge. So I’m walking over.

Being out at night in the neighborhood is eerie. Mr. Conservative says, don’t use the flood light. (He thinks it will burn out and it’s a pain to replace.) My response: we never use it and when is a better time than now, so I can find the house when I’m coming back? Trust me, it’s black out there. He uses the same logic with our Tiffany stationery. I can’t use it because no event is elegant enough to warrant its use, such as, perhaps responding to an invitation to the White House. So we’ve had it for 20 years and never used it. I have stored it in the cabinet with a note to put its disposition into my will. And, anyway, where did those 20 years go? Aaaarrrrgggghh.

Ed said I could bring Buster over, but I am not prepared to preside over the dog-cat war that I anticipate. And the dog might just get confused. This is going to go on for a while.

That’s all.

xx, Teal