Dear 4:

I don't have picture capacity at this time. Soon I will as I have been restraining my resident computer geniuses from expanding this machine. I fear they may never see trees or sunshine otherwise. Now may be the time. They'll give me photo lessons.

I think I have gone soft in the head. I really really really love my new cats. Usually I am not like that. I'm pretty non-sentimantal. I adored them immediately when they jumped on the table and told me hello at their former residence. I have no idea if they are as beautiful and wonderful as I think they are. My husband even loves them. Ordinarily he hardly notices anything but Hogan's Heroes. My great big boys seem to like them too.

Poor old Nicholas. Hugs and kisses he seldom wants. (Except if I've been gone a long time or he accidently gets shut in the basement. Then it's minutes of sappy cat hugs.) He is a big time jungle cat. I am so glad he's quit biting me. He keeps occupied with keeping his status among cats now. He thinks he is a dangerous predator. All that glowering from under the eyebrows is amusing in one so little and helpless. The actual attack is not so cute. Anyone would think I was crazy keeping an animal who enjoys hurting me.

I caused it by letting him chase and kill my hands when he was little. Bad. I'm sure he thinks that's what he is supposed to do.

Real cats are not impressed with the "King Of The Jungle" act. It's working out for all. How long has it been that anything has worked out so well?

I am too long winded.

Regards,

Lynn