Dear Kids,
      Dad and I have settled back into our non-vacation at-home lifestyle again. Right now Dad is fixing the dryer, and I’ve been chasing that wretched little cat Oreo, trying to lock him up in his little cage. He’s at that unpleasant in-between stage where it’s all about fighting and biting. Kara tells me he’s not a kitten any more, but a young cat. We need to get him vaccinated so I can toss him outside with the other cats. He’s already had a lot of boxing matches with Xena, through the patio door. That’s with the door closed. They fight anyway. Such tough kitties.
      My sister Barbara has changed her wedding date to Saturday, June 28th. It’ll be at 11:00 am in Nancy’s back yard. She’s not sending out formal announcements, so consider yourselves invited.
      Sunday, June 8th, I’ll be fixing Sunday dinner. We’ll eat about 4:30 pm. Let me know if you want to come.
      Jake and Dierdre are expecting twins! It used to be a secret, but now Dierdre has posted the ultrasound pix on her blog. I forgot when the due date is.
      Oreo just showed up here at the computer, and now he’s biting my fingers as I’m trying to type. Remember when Tom was a little kid, and he asked, “What are cats for?” I wish I knew.
      Last time I wrote about Paul, he had been transferred from Jacksonville, Florida, to Ft. Lauderdale. Now he’s in Wilmington, North Carolina, soon to be transferred to Fayetteville. He has put lots of miles on the Sable and has spent $600 on gas. Go, Paul. He keeps getting transferred because the sales reps aren’t selling enough to keep the installers (like Paul) busy. There’s more crime in Fayetteville, however, so let’s hope the grass is greener there.
      Last Sunday, in church, Bishop Little announced that next week there will be a special meeting of four wards (5th, 6th, 8th, and 16th) where they’ll slice us apart and put us back together into just three wards. So of course now everybody’s speculating where the new boundaries will be. And crying. There’s probably no chance that McGettigans will be in our new ward. Or Ricketts, or Kilburns, or anybody from that neighborhood. We think they’ll be sliced off and added to 8th ward. All the bishoprics will be changed. I probably won’t be playing the organ any more. But I’m sure they’ll keep me in nursery, wherever we end up. We’re speculating that our neighborhood will be put back together. It’s been 29 years since they sliced us apart. There are some great people over there. I just wish we didn’t have to lose any of the old-timers.
      Ah, life goes on. I love you all. Mom