Fuzzy the cat is 18! She was born on my son Blane's bed when he was 5. He will be 24 next month. She is senile and gets lost in the house. She ends up crying her lungs out. Poor crazy cat.
I forgot, I was going to post a picture of the screaming parrot. I still don't have one. Soon. He is screaming right now, but I think he is voicing an opinion on the vice presidential debates.
I am so glad tomorrow is Friday. I have to take CPR in the AM and paper, paper, paper in the afternoon. Then home to pack for the Twin Cities 10.
I hope to see my good friend Kari and meet up with my other friend Kathy. I'll try to get some good pictures while I am there.
And maybe visit The Yarnery!!