Just when I thought we were in the clear with our dogs' health, I hear from my neighbor Art that there is a serious flea infestation in our neighborhood. Paden kept him awake all night clawing and gnawing, he said. Gus and Jay-Jay have been treated and I haven't noticed them scratching more than usual. We had to call an exterminator a couple of years ago to come get rid of them here, and I will again if I have to, just hope I don't have to.

I went to a new place for lunch today, one of the most quaint little cafes I've been to yet. Pam and Jean were going to Friends in Brandon and invited me to join them. It's a tiny, hole-in-the-wall spot, seating maybe 50 or 60 people, at the most. I had their plate lunch, broiled chicken with gravy, rice, English peas, corn and roll. Jean and I questioned whether two starches should have been served on the same plate, all three of us learned in Home Ec. not to do that, but it was good.

Suddenly Senior has become one of my favorite websites. I especially like the jokes, and since I always like to think I'm leaving my readers with a smile, here's one guaranteed to get exactly that reaction:

Fred and his wife Joyce were having dinner.

Out of the blue, Fred said, "Honey, if I die, I know you'll eventually remarry. So as soon as I'm gone, I want you to sell all my stuff."

Joyce asked, "Now, why would you want me to do that?"

Fred replied, "Well, I don't want some other asshole using all my stuff."

Joyce smiled. "What makes you think I'd marry ANOTHER asshole?"