The cats don’t understand they have gained an hour. They are agitating at 4:30 a.m; for their vittles. Brunswick dutifully walked on my head, an attention-getting behavior that I find far preferable to his scratching at the bed sham and shredding it, but when that didn’t work, back to the sham he went. What’s a girl to do? I got up.

I have two kitty pans and if I keep at them, they are enough. However, Max, the manx, isn’t that happy about sharing with two others, so when I got lazy about the one in the garage that he had been using, he started dumping in a corner of the pool deck where there is a tree and bush and stone cover. He then piled stones on top. Ed found this out yesterday and, sheesh, you should have heard him on the subject. Colorful language doesn’t cover it. So he cleaned up. But he doesn’t have my sympathy, because I clean cat poop constantly. I told him, obviously, the solution was to reactivate the pan in the garage, which I have done and hope Max reverts to using it. Since it’s really chilly outdoors these days, maybe that will be Max’s incentive.

Ed complains that constant attention to mowing and pulling down palm fronds and redecorating the berm around one palm tree constantly because the flowers die (well … once planted, we kind of ignore them) and that “no one notices” when things are nice, but they do when things are not. And I said I often appreciate well tended flower beds and lawns without saying anything and, at that, since I walk these streets and see people, I will give compliments, but most people don’t. They just take things for granted. “Dot’s life.”

My friend John, who lived nearby 3 years ago, left when his rent was hiked and his son was starting school on the East Coast and couldn’t help out. He piled his big truck with furniture and traveled with his dog, Tyler, a little shihtzu, adorable and a character in his own right, and rented a house on the causeway to Merritt Island. We kept in touch and when Tyler had to be put down due to an incurable cancer, I mourned. They got another dog, Buster, who is a terrier, and John was having trouble relating to Buster because he wasn’t Tyler (what a burden). Well, I met Buster yesterday, because Scott, John’s son, got a job in Fort Myers and they are re-renting on our island. The rents are more manageable due to the recession so they are back. Buster is very sweet indeed, and I told John to give him a break. Buster put his head on my lab and I petted him for a good half hour while looking into great brown eyes. What’s not to love?

Still no photos from Halloween night. Both friends have forgotten to E mail me. It’s hard to dun for favors granted but not fulfilled. It may be quite a while, if ever, that I can post these remarkable examples of Halloween festivity.

Ed and I discussed Thanksgiving plans. Our favorite invite people will be entertaining family this year and the family has adamantly requested Italian food. So we are letting them be and had decided we would be just the two of us. Ed really loves Thanksgiving turkey. We called a dear friend from the ombudsman program and she is available, to our delight, but prefers to cook so would we go to her and that's what we will do. She lives on the Caloosahatchee (hatchee means river) which feeds the Gulf. It is a big river and quite pretty. I can't say I am not pleased to be spared cooking chores. We're giving a boat parade party on December 18th, and will probably also have people for a holiday dinner on the 25th -- that's enough.

xx, Teal