Well, Mom, Stilly's cleaning up cat barf and Amos is finding the way to San Jose is full of pitfalls and potholes. Especially POTholes, if you get my drift. At least he's with a trumpeter and we all know that trumpeters will keep you on the straight and narrow because no more upstanding and law-abiding folks live in this world than trumpeters (trumpeteresses?? well, trumpet players).

Temptress trumpeteress Tess's tresses. Say THAT six times fast!

Thanksgiving is over and this morning we shall gather leaves in the yard of our friend May, at whose house we are. This afternoon is reserved for play (no, not jumping into the piles of leaves!) and tomorrow morning early we take the bus to Midway airport (or aeroport, if you prefer) and wing our way back to our humble home in the West. By tomorrow night I shall be asleep in my own bed.

More later, Mom. I need more coffee. And breakfast.