I got the sweetest thing in the mail today. It was a letter and some old photos from your sister. The photos ranged from you as a toddler to twenty years ago. Some I'd never seen before. And they document all my unfortunate hair styles over the years - I'm sorry I made you look at some of them. Except for the hair, they're wonderful to look at.
We miss you here. Your mother has lost two of her three children to cancer. Irene, as she says, grabbed all the good genes, but she's the only child now. Jen has lost her father, and at a difficult time for her to not have a Dad to talk to. And the church still grieves for you. And the worst story of all - at least to you - is poor Jethro. The dog got so depressed that I had to get him a cat, Heaven help us.
There was a night last week that I slept badly. I went to sleep with the dog snuggled up against me and the cat playing in the living room. I woke up an hour or so later with the dog's rear firmly in my chest and a very hot sensation on the top of my head, which turned out to be the cat. (I don't know what it is about my head, that these animals want to sit on it.) The two of them moved around all night. Jethro alternated between snuggling up with me and lying on my legs, and the cat slept in various positions on my neck and head. And they put out so much heat that I got up and put on my summer nightgown.
Last night we didn't sleep much, either. The blame belongs to the dog's tummy and the back door. Jethro needed to go out every hour-and-a-half all night. And the freezing rain froze the back door shut. So every time he needed out, I had to use the hair dryer to thaw the door before I could open it. By the time I tried to open it again, it had re-frozen. And it's still frozen. It's going down to 14 tonight, so it won't thaw soon.
That's all the news. Except for the frozen door, we're doing fine. Hunter just left his toys and jumped on the keyboard, so we're all agreed that it's bedtime. We love you so much!