Another quiet day today. It's foggy and cool and I am missing my fireplace and You Know Who toasting his little buns in front of it. I was thinking about him this morning...wondering what his assessment of events would be. I know that he would highly approve of Manfriend's eye for fashion and his good head of hair, but I suspect that there would be a fight over the evening's TeeVee selections.
Stewey: I see that there is a stimulating documentary on PBS this evening about the effects of...on...vis a vis...and how it relates to... Perhaps we should have a sherry, view it, and then engage in a lively discussion afterwards.
Manfriend: We're watching NCIS.
Stewey: Very well, but before we do, I insist that you try a little of this pate' that I had my valet procure for us from the specialty market. It's sublime.
Manfriend: Tastes like chicken.
Stewey: Aaahhh, a discerning pallette, I see. It is indeed chicken. Chicken liver pate'. Here...try it with the sherry.
Manfriend: Tastes like cough syrup.
Stewey: I'll have you know, my good man that this vintage has been in my family for generations. You, Sir, are a Philistine.
With that, I'm pretty sure that my Little would jump up onto the ottoman, tap me on the forehead, and then give me his list of reasons why I should remain a lonely broken down old spinster rather than a giddy lovestruck portly middle aged floozy.
And then he probably would have watered Manfriend's luggage.
The truth, though, is that I think the two of them would have been just fine together. Rich has had his share of animal companions in his life, and Stewey would have loved the company of another living person who could empathize with having to put up with me.
Fast friends, indeed.
So that's the report for the day, Dearies. We're hurtling headling toward the weekend. Appointments tomorrow, and then I am hoping for a stitchy, pool, football day on Saturday! We'll see what develops.
Do something fun and come tell me all about it!