Sydney will share a foldover, but every afternoon he has his special meal of rice, washed and drained ground beef or ground buffalo and additional beef flavoring. We add a little dry dog food for the vitamins. I warm it in a good skillet and with my own little fingers test it for temperature. Then I put it on a plate (He doesn’t like bowls) and take it out to the porch for him to eat. He likes for me to sit with him while he eats and engage in an activity that indicates I will not be getting up for awhile. So he eats and I read or work puzzles or get on the laptop.

Then, after he eats, he climbs up on the sofa next to me; he’s here now. Summer is at the “Y” playing racquetball with her grandpa. Well, learning to play. She is at the running into the wall phase at present. I am wearing her shoes from last year and I don’t know if this is a good thing; most people think she out-means me . . . which is going some.

She tells that she and her buds have formed not a club, but a gang. They do not have a name for this group but the requirement for membership is meanness. She and I are members of the Mean Girls Ice Cream Eating Club, but we have let it lapse. That is probably good since we used to take a carton and sit there with two spoons. Not healthy  . . . especially since we pretended there were little people in the ice cream and we were gobbling them up. I’ve written this before, haven’t I?  Oh, well.