Monday, May 21, 2018

Pockets of Love

I started a quilt for my Sis who lives in Belen, NM (about 35 miles south of me) before I moved down here. Had it "done" and had the sandwich made (for you nonquilters, that's when the top, batt, and backing are pinned together for quilting) and decided I didn't like it. So it went into a box, one of several, that went into my car and came down during my first trip when I found and bought my home.  And there it stayed. In the box. Even after it came from her home to mine.

This is a special quilt, it's a memory quilt. Jim, her husband, died a few months ago, and I asked her to send me one of his shirts, one of her favorites, for a quilt. She sent me a striped shirt. And I started work on the quilt shortly thereafter. And then didn't like it.

OK, now to this past week. I had company for the first part of the week and wasn't thinking of quilts, or anything other than my company, then he traveled on, and I began to think of the quilt. One of my neighbors (I have very nice neighbors!) has a large van, and graciously took me to Lowe's where I bought two 8'x4'x1" pieces of solid insulation and brought them and me back home. After years of drooling and dreaming, I had a design wall for my quilting.

I put the quilt on the wall and stared at it. And stared. And then, after staring a while longer, I "saw" the quilt. Jim loved life with a passion, and he loved cats, dogs, and Kitty, but not necessarily in that order ;-).

I got busy, ripped the right half of the quilt apart (the long vertical stripe is part of the original) added the shorter stripes, and the two cats. Then I re-pinned the quilt, and quilted it, added the edging, and finished sewing it, and the label on the back, last night. The only thing it's missing is the pocket button on the large striped cat. (By the way, Jim was something like 6'7" tall--
a big boy, Kitty is shorter than I am). So, today, I shall go button shopping while I'm out buying groceries, getting ready for another house guest who is arriving tonight.

The name of the quilt is Pockets of Love. It's big enough to take a nap under when the weather cools down. The back is flannel so it will be cozy and snuggly. The quilting is simple vertical stitching, which is what gives it the chevron wrinkly shadows if you can see them. All of it is quilted except the two pockets. One in the large vertical stripe, and one on the Jim Cat. 


Lenora

Boycott Football
Save Brains
Save Lives

"There is no death. Only a change of worlds." –Seattle (Sealth) 1786-1866, Suquamish chief)

Monday, May 14, 2018

A Photo Tour of the New Digs

As you by now know, I live in the House of Frog and Dragon, and one of the first to welcome me was my very own Garden Dragon, Honey. He lives in the honeysuckle plant outside my living room window.


When I first shopped for a new home and found this condo, one of the fun things I spotted, while touring the 'park' out my back window was this pond, and the accompanying sign.

 You can see how deep this pond is. At the deepest, when full, it might be 3 feet. I guess that's why the sign tickled my funny bone. Fish????

If you're reading this on something small, and can't read the words, it says, PLEASE STAY OUT of the pond. NO wading, swimming or fishing. (Fishing????)

I would love to put one of those motorized shark fins in it to wander around, but someone would steal it.
 I would love to put one of those motorized shark fins in it to wander around, but someone would steal it.

Can  you tell which door is mine? Yes, the one on the left with the frog on the screen door, and the frogs on the welcome mat.

Finally, we're inside. i'm in front of the love seat, shooting across the living room to the dining room. Yes, those are frogs climbing over the far, dining room wall, and that is My Frog Prince Quilt hanging on the wall.


This shot is looking into my living room Doesn't it look nice and cozy?
The green guy on the love seat is holding a quilt dog I made for my son when he was a wee one.
Though dark, the living room looks pretty good, eh? Just behind the long sofa (on the right) is my "sewing room." What doesn't fit on the shelves is in the garage. That's fabric in the bins, and books of patterns, equipment, etc. on the shelves.

Here is my kitchen, looking from the garage entrance out the sliding glass doors to my patio. No, that is not a checkered rug on the floor. I have a 3' square bistro table I want to put in the kitchen, and the checkered oil cloth is folded to 3' square to see if it will fit. It will fit, but I need help to get the table moved. I think I figured out how to get it from the garage to the kitchen without taking it apart and putting it back together. To the right of where I'm standing is the "hall" that runs by the stairwell upstairs. It was pretty boring, so I didn't shoot it.


Upstairs to the left in the front is the guest bedroom. The bookself has a tv (you may have to connect it when you come) and all my fiction.



Next door to the right is my office. It still needs some attention, can you tell?


Down the hall is the Master Suite. When you open the French Doors, you look out the three bi-folds and a balcony onto the dining room, living room, and sliding doors. Turn right to the bedroom. And the walk-in closet. The closet is almost big enough for another bedroom! On the right, where you can't see, are shelves about 4' long. 




Standing in front of the closet, here is my bed and sitting area. As you can tell, it's still a work in progress. As is the whole house.

Turning to the left, is the hall to the master bath. The books in this case are poetry, essays, and memoir. If you look to the right, you'll see the bi-fold doors open to the balcony, and if you've got really good eyes, you can see me in the mirror at the far end taking this picture.


The stairs going down (they also go up, if you're curious). That wall above the stairs begs for a big art quilt, doesn't it? The paintings at the bottom, which you can barely see, are pastels by my Mom.

And, finally, my patio, and just outside my patio gate, the park. (The pond is off a ways, so it can't be seen from here. However, I can see the bridge through my upstairs bedroom window.)



And there  you have it, Gentle Readers. My new home. Complete with a living Garden Dragon! Once settled, I hope to add a fur person or two. Not sure yet if I want a dog or a cat, or perhaps one each? But I need/want to get settled first.



Monday, May 7, 2018

Are You Adoptable?

I read an article the other day that got me to thinking a tad bit about old age, growing older, and all the related implications.

The article, "He was one of millions of Chinese seniors growing old alone. So he put himself up for adoption." is by Emily Rauhala at The Washington Post. It is here, please consider reading it.

It is about an 85-year-old Chinese man, a widower, with children who had long since moved away and had lives of their own. The old ways are dying, if not dead. Modernity has come to China, and with it, the fact that children are not always in a position to care for aging parents as once was the norm. Han Zicheng, tired of being alone, of having no sons to care for him (he claimed he had two, one of them said there were three), posted a note in a public place asking for someone to adopt him so he would not die uncared for, alone.

Loneliness is a terrible thing, and we, as a species, seem to feel it more when we are surrounded by people, strangers. I wrote a blog about it December 28, 2015, Are You Lonesome Tonight? There's even had a link to Elvis singing his popular song. Feel free to check it out.

My memory of the article about Mr. Han is he was "needy"—he complained about his plight, he didn't want to do for himself but expected others to do for him. He refused to go to a nursing home. There were people who maintained contact with him, sporadic at best, but not his family. 

I'm sure we all know people like Mr. Han, I certainly do. They are very needy, and though surrounded by people, no one pays them much attention because they are always complaining. Most of them are also excellent manipulators, and often one doesn't realize what is happening until they've been sucked in. Needy people are exhausting people. They don't want to help themselves; they want someone to "fix" it for them, whatever "it" is. There is a reason I never became a counselor. 

Someone sent me a quote a few days ago, "Nobody cares if you're miserable, so you might as well be happy." It's by Cynthia Nelms, and it's good advice. Truly, nobody cares. Oh, that's not to say, when the now and again calamity hits they don't care, but it gets jaded hearing nothing but complaints from people, even when couched in such a manner they think they're being cute and people won't notice. Complaining is a habit, and like any habit, it can be broken with a little work. OK, a lot of work. Still, it's a habit that can be broken. Or continually reinforced. Pay attention to what you think, speak, and write. Is it positive, or is there a hint of whine? Cheese not included. 

At some point in my life it came to me that I'm probably going to be alone far more than I'm going to be coupled, and if that's the case, I'd darned well better learn to like myself, because I'm going to be the best, and possibly only, company I'm going to have as I age, grow old, and die.

By the way, this idea of being afraid to die alone is rather odd, if you think about it. Two things we always do alone are being birthed and dying. There may be friends and or family present, but when push comes to shove (pun intended) we're gonna do it alone. If it frightens you, I suggest you do some searching as to why it frightens you, and then act and change so it doesn't. Educate yourself. If the face of the god you worship is a vengeful, wrathful, frightening one that you're afraid to meet, consider finding a more forgiving, humorous, and loving face of your god to worship. As Reverend Mother Odrade, BG, said, "Face your fears or they will climb over your back."

Are you lonesome? Want someone to adopt you? Are you adoptable? Which baby do you gravitate to—the happy, bubbly baby, who loves to burble and smile? —or the grumpy one who would rather cry and whimper and scream? Which would you adopt?


Lenora

Boycott Football
Save Brains
Save Lives

"Don’t take life too seriously. You’ll never get out of it alive." --Elbert Hubbard

Monday, April 30, 2018

Gooooood Morning Gentle Readers!


Yes, it is, once again, Monday. Funny how that rolls around on a periodic basis, isn't it?

I am in my home in Albuquerque, or ABQ for short because hardly anyone I know can spell it ;-) 

And what an adventure I had in getting here. Get out a map of Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico and follow along.

Normally, when coming this direction, I would take I-84 until it meets up with I-15, at which time I bid I-84 a fond farewell, and head south through Salt Lake City, Provo, and just south of Provo is Spanish Fork. There, I turn left (East, if you're a purist) and take Hwy 6 thru Price and spend the night in Green River, UT. From there, I'd take I-70 about 20 miles, hang a right and go through Moab, UT, and Cortez, Shiprock, Farmington, and pick up US 550 in Bloomfield. US 550 is four lanes, well maintained, and has a speed limit of 70. Drive that speed at your own peril, as most everyone else is faster.

So, as I was getting ready to leave on Saturday morning from the motel in GR, I looked at the map, and holy moly, 550 meets up with I-70 just a way over into Colorado. Well, Hwy 50 meets I-70, then becomes 550. I could drive a few miles farther on the freeway, then take that marvelous 550, 4 lanes, 70 mph road all the way into ABQ!!!

Uh. Yeah. Got off I-70 at Grand Junction, 4 lanes, fair speed (city, congested, 45 or so) and about the time we got out of the congested area a sign said something to the effect of Welcome to US Highway 550 and immediately dropped to two lanes. Well, there wasn't much traffic, so it was ok.

Until it began to climb and to wind. By the time I got to the town (village?) of Ouray CO, there was snow on the roofs, 4-6 inches on cars, and sides of the road. The road itself was bare and wet, if not dry. I don't know what the elevation was, but someone said over 7,000 ft. After Ouray, it really climbed, and every 20 feet or so was a hairpin curve. To the left was mountain wall, to the right was a whole lot of nothing! Believe me, when the sign said 20mph limit, I did a sedate 15mph—or less!! It was that whole lotta nothin' that got my attention real quick. Unknown to me, and probably a good thing, I was on the Million Dollar Highway, http://www.dangerousroads.org/north-america/usa/635-million-dollar-highway-usa.htmlone of the listed dangerous roads. If I was younger, and a biker, I think I'd love to do it on a bike.  In summer. No snow. No ice.

Eventually, I came to a car going some slower than I, but he was following the snowplow. I settled in and followed, too. There didn't seem to be snow on the road ahead of the plow, it was more like he was clearing off the foot or so of the right side of the road of a couple inches of white stuff. At the second pass, he pulled over and we went on our way. Crossed 4 passes. One was over 11,000 feet high, 3 over 10,000 feet high. I'm really glad I went that way. Yes, it slowed me down, considerably, but OMG the scenery! It was marvelous!!! Well worth the trip!!!

Once we made it off the mountain, and into Durango, 550 once again became the expected 4 lanes, and once through Aztec, Farmington, and Bloomfield, the speed picked up.

My realtor, Natalie, invited me to stay at her house Saturday and Sunday and house sit while she was out of town. A lovely visit with her daughter and puppy.

I closed on the deal and received my keys on Monday last. Then, after closing, my friend, Lara, who I met years ago at a writer's group in Richland (next door to Kennewick) and who long since moved here, was kind enough to lend me an air bed, and a couple of eating implements. Thank you, Natalie and Lara. You both made the move pleasurable!

On Tuesday, the Comcast guy came and set up my TVs, computer, and phone. Because life is, well, life, the phone number I was told would be mine turned out not to be, but I think it's pretty much straightened out. Except someone said my name shows up as Lenora Gray. Sigh. Later. And the computer, though connected and working was on the floor until the movers got here. In other words, not really usable.

On Thursday the guys came, delivered, and set up my new washer/dryer, refrigerator, and counter-top nuker. Why, you are possibly wondering, couldn't I just have put the baby nuker in my car and brought it myself? Because there was NO room in my car. Since the other stuff was being delivered, why not let them deliver it, too? 

Friday brought the movers with all my stuff. So far, I've unpacked 6 wardrobe boxes. No, not all full of clothes, most had clothes, quilts, and art. I've emptied a bunch of other boxes, and by Saturday night bedtime, I was sore, tired, and very happy to be here. Also on Saturday, my neighbor, Thea brought over a bottle of yummy red wine as a 'welcome to the neighborhood' gift and we shared a glass. Yes, I was very happy ;-)

Sunday brought more boxes to unpack, and another glass of red. Life in ABQ is good!

Today brings the delivery guy will bring my new and set up. My old one was already beginning to get temperamental, so I left it for the buyer. I told him it worked, and would probably last until he was ready to replace it with something newer and more intelligent. BTW, I checked with Angie's List, and she said one of the things not to bother with bringing was a flat screen tv, as they seldom travel well. I did bring a couple of my small ones in the car and they seemed to have made it just fine, but I was gentle on the packing and the drive.

Slowly, the house (townhouse) is looking more like a home and less like a war zone. The weather is marvelous. The altitude is something I'm still acclimating to. But no real problems, other than I tire a tad easier than I did at 400 feet. Funny what 6,000 feet difference will do (actually, someone told me that was the altitude here, but the point forecast on the NOAA site says it's only 5564 feet). ;-) I'm sure going up and down stairs hasn't anything to do with it. (Rule of the house until it looks like a home and not a war zone: do not go up/down the stairs empty handed! One hand for holding the banister, the other for holding the item.)

There will be pictures--eventually. But not for a bit, I just wanted to let you all know I'm here, I'm lovin' it, and the guest beds are ready!

Oh, and I've met more of the neighbors – super nice people! Both the ones with two feet and the ones with four ;-)

Lenora

Save Brains!
Save Lives!
Boycott Football!

The only way to bring peace to the earth is to learn to make our own life peaceful.
                          -- Gautama Buddha

Monday, April 9, 2018

I'm BORED!

Public Service Announcement:

I got my condo and will be moving to ABQ on the 20th April, closing down there on the 23. Possibly a post next Monday, none the Monday after that, but Auntie Lenora will be back, never fear ;-) 

Fry bread, red chili, sunshine, and warmth—here I come, ready or not!



No, I'm not bored. Really. However, the other day while waiting in a neighborhood restaurant for friends to arrive, I overheard two women in the booth behind me talking. More to the point, I overheard one. Her voice was loud enough my hearing aids picked it up. I'm guessing she faced the back of my head. I didn't hear the other lady, who probably sat with her back to me – or was too shocked to speak.

When I came in, I noticed them, and they seemed to be about my age, well dressed, and mature (is that the right word?). Well, they looked to be about my age, but one, the one I could hear, was really a child in disguise. She whined. She sighed. And she stated how rough her life was, how poor she was, how broke she was, how old she was, how bored she was, and oh woe, woe, woe. (Woe to me! for being forced to listen!!) Sigh. 

I was shocked. Shocked, I say! Had that woman never learned that boredom is a choice? Her choice? Poor thing, she must have driven her mother mad as a child, whining for someone to "fix" her unhappy state instead of doing it herself. As I sat there, an unwilling participant in the discussion, I started thinking--always dangerous for me. Anyhow, how old were my kids the last time they whined they were bored? Six? Seven? Maybe five? The poor girl-woman behind me must have been raised in a home filled with Poor Pitiful People unable to do for themselves, let alone teach others to do for themselves.

For that matter, I can't remember the last time I was bored. Admittedly, I am a bit of an odd duck, but surely not that odd. True, I live with hundreds of people residing in my skull (no, I'm not psychotic, I'm a writer; they're characters) who are lots of fun to converse with. My home is filled to the rafters with books, most of which I've read. Well, at the moment they're in boxes ready to move to ABQ. However, my phone and my eReader are also loaded with books, not to mention the other half of my bed. And there are fat squirrels outside my window to watch. Mostly I watch them, but now and then one or two watch me through the window. And the birds are building nests. There are always quilts to make (yes, my sewing machine is packed, but I know how to thread a needle and poke it into and out of fabric), pictures to photograph or paint, trips to take from the comfort of my sofa. Not to mention poems and stories to write, tv to watch. And did I mention I read a lot of books and have been known to now and then to text (not tweet)? Oh, and I dream. Dreams are important, not just when asleep, but also when awake. And sometimes, I just love to sit with a cuppa and watch the world go by. When would I ever have time to be bored???

Truly, I cannot understand why anyone older than six or seven would choose to be bored. Have they no imagination? No room to clean? No dishes to wash? No laundry to take care of? No puppy to pet? However, you'll be proud of me. At least I hope you will. I did not turn around and tell Poor Pitiful Person that if her life was truly that bad, if she was truly that bored, why didn't she just end it? No, I remembered in time that I had not walked a single step in her shoes, and mercy of mercies, my friends arrived and saved me from making a disastrous social faux pas in a nice restaurant.

Oh, the last thing I heard her say to her friend as they got up to leave, "I'll get this. Lunch is on me."


Lenora

Boycott Head-Banging Sports
Save Brains
Save Lives


"You cannot control what happens to you, but you can control your attitude toward what happens to you, and in that, you will be mastering change rather than allowing it to master you."  --Brian Tracy
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/brian_tracy_125679

Monday, April 2, 2018

Auntie Lenora is Somewhat, Albeit Happily, Frazzled!

Since the last post, when the unethical real estate agent who wanted to buy Auntie Lenora's condo with her children backed out of the contract, someone else came along, made an offer, and Auntie Lenora's closing date for her Kennewick Condo is 20 Apr! Yes, it's fast, but it's a cash deal, so sometime within the next 3 weeks, Auntie Lenora is moving!!! Yaaaaayyyyyy for her team!

See Auntie Lenora do her Happy Dance here.

Which means, she may not be as punctual in posting. If she doesn't post anything until after she's moved, do not panic; assume that no news is good news ;-)

When the gal backed out of the contract, Auntie Lenora's agent from ABQ (aka Albuquerque, but Auntie Lenora can't spell that) called and told her not to worry, that she would sell it during the weekend, by Tuesday at the latest. She assured Auntie Lenora she was very intuitive about those things. Yeah. Right. And Auntie Lenora looks like a penguin. 

Saturday came – no lookers; Sunday  – came and still no lookers; Monday came and though there were no lookers an agent who had shown it before called and wanted to show it to an out of town buyer at 5pm on Tuesday. He spent 30 minutes looking at it. Wednesday he made an offer, Auntie Lenora countered, and on Thursday he accepted the counter! 

Auntie Lenora is heading to ABQ!!!! And fry bread. And red chili. And her sister of choice, Kitty. And it looks like she's going to get the condo of her dreams ;-) Can you tell she's happy? (For a refresher, go here.

Can you tell she still has lots to do before she leaves?

Do you want to come help????

At any rate, she may, or may not be posting, and just wants you to know why she isn't if she doesn't.

Auntie Lenora is ready for ABQ! Is ABQ ready for Auntie Lenora?????

Lenora

Boycott Football.
Save Brains.
Save Lives.

"The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision." –Helen Keller

Monday, March 26, 2018

Auntie Lenora's Guide to Home Shopping

Can you tell what Auntie Lenora is doing? Yes. Home shopping. She doesn't mean shopping from home, she means shopping for a new home and selling the current one!

Here are some things she thinks you may find of interest should you be in the home shopping department.

1. Get pre-qualified for a loan. Have a pre-qual letter to give to your Real Estate Agent. This serves a couple of purposes. It lets you know what you can realistically afford so when you go home shopping you won't put on your rose-colored glasses. It's very frustrating for you as a potential buyer to find the perfect $1M house, make an offer, and discover you can only afford $100,000 home. It's also very frustrating for the seller who thinks they had a live offer. In fact, if your realtor doesn't ask you to get pre-qualified, get a different realtor! (Auntie Lenora has just gone through 3 offers, one with a pre-qual on half the borrowers but not the whole, and guess what? They all fell through.) Ask your realtor to put a statement in the ads that offers will be only be entertained/accepted from those who have a pre-qualification letter.

2. Find a Realtor you connect with, one who doesn't insist you belong in that cute little house with the big yard, when you want a larger condo and no yard. It's OK to shop for a realtor, as well as a home. And make sure your realtor will be working for YOU, not the seller.

3. Fees are pretty well set in every state. Find out what they are up front. What will it cost you to move into your new home? What will it cost you to sell yours?

4. Before you start, make some lists. Auntie Lenora recommends you make 3 columns – Gotta Have / Wanna Have / Not Just No! (But Heck No!). We all have those little things called 'deal-breakers' and 'deal-makers.' Auntie Lenora doesn't care how perfect the house is, but if she opens the front door and has to make a decision whether to go upstairs or down, it's out. Nope. Nada. Deal Breaker. She's too old to be forced into those management-level decisions. She also doesn't want to climb stairs from her garage to her kitchen. After all, groceries and wine are heavy enough on their own.

On the other hand, She really wants a garage. Preferably a 2-car garage, but a garage. She'd love to have the home all on one floor, but she can deal with stairs, as long as they aren't between the garage and the kitchen. AND she'd prefer the garage open to the kitchen, and not be at the other end of the house. That's a Wanna Have. She's lived with worse.

So her list looked sort of like this:

Gotta Have
Wanna Have
Not Just No!



garage
one level
split level entry
3+ bedrooms
gas f/p, heat, stove, H2O
gated community
view
no carpet

pet-friendly
pull-outs under counters

family oriented
swimming pool

yardman
personal patio boy

pool boy






OK, you get the idea. Obviously, it has to be in her price range, remember, the word Mortgage means Hand of Death (or Death Hand).

5. If you are moving to a place with a lot of gray, gloomy, dark, wet weather do your best to go home hunting on yucky days. If the house looks cheerful on a cruddy day, it will be marvelous when the sun shines. If you must shop on a sunny day, make sure it's really, Really, REALLY cheerful, because when the clouds roll in (and they will) you want it to be as happy inside as possible.

6. Call different movers. Get good faith WAGs (wild a** guesstimates) as to how much it will cost to ship stuff. Ask them about things—is it cheaper to ship your cast iron four-poster bed, or replace it? Pack it yourself. And pack tight (see Auntie Lenora's Helpful Tips for Moving Across the Country With a Cat) (Auntie Lenora does tend to like long titles, doesn't she?) AND leave those heavy appliances. You'll spend more on moving costs than replacement costs. You don't really need to ask Auntie Lenora how she discovered that, do you? Don't move your desk chair – it will get trashed, and they aren't that expensive. Move your beds—at least the springs and mattresses, maybe not the cast iron part, your sofa, but maybe not the side chairs unless you just have to have them for whatever reason. 

7. If you have the opportunity to get out and meet your new neighbors, at least some of them, prior to buying, do so. Are they friendly? What do they think of the kids who obviously live near?

A lot of you who are close to Auntie Lenora in age may think you want to live in a community peopled only with old farts and fartesses. And that's fine. But having the youngsters around will help keep you young. Yeah, they can be noisy, but that's called youth and good health, and the little ones will someday grow up to be your doctor, your nurse, and pay into Social Security. If they are too obnoxious, they can be braised with spices and vegetables, or slow roasted on a spit over the BBQ until crispy. Serve with salad and ice cream for dessert.

Auntie Lenora has read several articles that yes, people think they feel safer in gated communities but they tend to stay in them and seldom venture out where they don't have that perceived sense of safety. And, Auntie Lenora isn't all that convinced they are that much safer. Too many people have the codes to get in—friends, delivery people, ex-residents, teenagers who like to hack, etc.

8. Auntie Lenora strongly suggests you check out the area around your dream home. Are the homes well maintained? Is there a Trader Joe's within walking distance? If you awaken one morning and the snow is so deep you can't find your car, can you walk to a Starbucks? Can you walk to a grocery and back? Check out the local restaurants.

So, what did Auntie Lenora buy? A two-story condo. See Why I Posted Late Last Time (Hint: It's not political). At least she thinks she's bought it. They accepted her offer and she has accepted an offer to buy her current home (well, she did make a couple of changes to the offer and is waiting to see what happens on that. -- And what happened is the Realtor/buyer lied, and backed out of the contract. Better now than later. All buyers were NOT prequalified, even though Realtor said they were. So, Auntie Lenora is back to square one.) The view from her new condo if she ever gets it and moves in, is of a lovely park, and from the clubhouse of the nearby mountains. The new home is both pet and family friendly. Auntie Lenora may get another dog when she gets moved and settled. She may get another cat. And she for sure plans for a Patio Boy to keep her patio swept, etc. Auntie Lenora likes the etc.

Lenora

Boycott Football.
Save Brains.
Save Lives.

"Your right to [assault] rifles. My right to life. Choose."
–Lucia Smith, age 6 [bracket phrase is mine, Lenora]