Burrowing Cats & the Oxford Comma

Dear John,

 

There's nothing much to say tonight, but that never stopped us from loving to talk to each other. So here I am, to say nothing much except that I love you.

 

I still have the cold, but I felt much better today. I had a good day at work. It was gray and dreary all day but nobody minded because the high was 48. The 50s will start tomorrow. People are so happy about it. This winter wasn't nearly as bad as last, but we're all ready to see it go.

 

Maggie has started doing something new. When I'm in bed she crawls between the sheets, sometimes all the way to the foot of the bed. I don't know if it's for the warmth for the confined space. Sometimes at night I'll wake up and feel cat breath on my feet. She'll make her way down there, prowl around for a bit, then cuddle up around my ankles and go to sleep. One night I heard Jethro growling, turned on the light to see what was wrong, and saw this lump in the covers slowly moving past him and toward my feet. Poor creature, I don't wonder that he was puzzled.

 

This is just for giggles. You know what a stickler I am for the Oxford comma. The world dissolves into chaos without it. I can't imagine why anyone would try to communicate without it. It seems that commas are out of fashion right now. Show this to Mama and my Grandmother Keistler - they'll love it.

 

I'm off to bed now - I'm trying to get plenty of sleep so this cold will go away quietly. I'll sleep with a dog on my head, one cat on my ribs, another on my feet, and the third as the small of my back. But I'd rather have you.

 

Adore you,

Joan.