Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss.
---Joan Didion, "On Keeping a Notebook", in SLOUCHING TOWARDS BETHLEHEM, 1968.

Monica arrived at almost 7, just as we were about to go off for Music Circus, with the new Fitch. He's a very pale orange tabby. If I were choosing my own kitten, I would never have chosen this one. I didn't want one to remind me of Gummitch, but in reality, NuFitch is very different. His face is more triangular, his fur paler. The weirdest thing about him is that he carries his tail up over his back. Perhaps he's part akita. I picked him up to put him in the bathroom and the tail wrapped around my arm.

He's a very endearing little fellow, though Crombie certainly doesn't think so so far. He purred while the dog nearly sniffed him away. He purrs when he's with people. Crombie hisses and they've gotten into many fights, but so far it's all hiss and fury and no actual blood. Crombie is about 5 months old to Fitch's 3.5 months, so we thought they'd probably get along all right, unlike adult cats suddenly introduced to each other. It sometimes seems like I've spent the summer putting one beast or another behind one door or another to keep them safe.

Yesterday Crombie discovered the stars I had brought home from the Loretto auction in February. She takes a strand of them and chases it all over the house. The foil apparently shines just right. Eventually she has torn off all the stars, so she goes for another one. It looks like I'll be finding bits of star here and there the same way I did confetti for so long last year.

For no good reason, my camera is working again. I figure it'll jolly me along till the next Big Event. But I'm clever, I am. I will carry a couple of spare disposables at any next Big Event.

(Ow! NuFitch is taking over right where OldFitch left off, jumping into my lap with claws out and climbing up.)

Because I'll be taking Roni a full set of my pictures, I spent the day scanning almost 50 more pics. I also mailed out a lot of the family duplicates, but this one got messed up:

For some reason, the lab took half of this and half of the one next to it. Naturally, this is the one I wanted 5 copies of, so it's back to the shop with that negative.

Meanwhile, Rich is still ill. He went back to the doctor, and this time he got iron, since he's anemic (hey, that's MY schtick!) and Zantac to settle his tummy.

Congratulations, Dreama! And to you, too, Al!

Another quote: " But you can't behave this way around a puppy, because ... well, he's a puppy. He's got that whole articulated eyebrow thing going on." (Xeney, August 24)

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If guns are outlawed, only the government will have guns, and we see how well that worked in Waco.