Hey Mon', it's Jamaica!

We wing our way to Jamaica at 7am tomorrow. We arrive at noon. That means we'll be at the hotel by 1. We won't be allowed into our rooms until 3. It sounds like a couple of hours on the beach with a foo foo drink featuring a little bamboo umbrella, slices of pineapple and a bit of Jamaican rum.
I think I'll arrive at the airport in shorts, flowered shirt and sandles. That'll save me the hassle of changing into something more comfortable when I get there.
Loretta has us all packed and ready to roll. Char is going to stay with the dogs. He'll also give us a ride to the airport at 4am. (We haven't told him yet.)
I'll be posting comments about our adventure here.

My card-playing pardner, Bernie, wife of a man selected to be one of my pallbearers if and when that time arrives, has suffered a loss. Her precious cat has "stepped on a rainbow" and has been bugled back to the baby Jesus.
Kitty died.
I'm sorry for the cat, for Bernie and for all those that lose those precious pets. It surely does hurt.
Kinky Friedman is my guru and favorite author. He may be the greatest living author today. Here's what he wrote about losing his "Cuddles."

E P I L O G U E

On January 4, 1993, the cat in this book and the books that preceded it was put to sleep in Kerrville, Texas, by Dr. W.H. Hoegemeyer and myself. Cuddles was fourteen years old, a respectable age. She was as close to me as any human being I have ever known.

Cuddles and I spent many years together, both in New York, where I first found her as a little kitten on the street in Chinatown, and later on the ranch in Texas. She was always with me, on the table, on the bed, by the fireplace, beside the typewriter, on top of my suitcase when I returned from a trip.

I dug Cuddles' grave with a silver spade, in the little garden by the stream behind the old green trailer where both of us lived in the summertime. Her burial shroud was my old New York sweatshirt and in the grave with her is a can of tuna and a cigar

A few days ago I received a sympathy note from Bill Hoegemeyer, the veterinarian. It opened with a verse by Irving Townsend: "We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own live within a fragile circle ......

Now, as I write this, on a gray winter day by the fireside, I can almost feel her light tread, moving from my head and my heart down through my fingertips to the keys of the typewriter People may surprise you with unexpected kindness. Dogs have a depth of loyalty that often we seem unworthy of. But the love of a cat is a blessing, a privilege in this world.

They say when you die and go to heaven all the dogs and cats you've ever had in your life come running to meet you.

Until that day, rest in peace, Cuddles.

mmmmmmm.....

Moorhead American Legion Monday NIght Pinochle stats

CLICK ON THIS TO ENLARGE IT.
The team on which I play is "The Aces." We are mired in the middle of the pack this week I think. We didn't play well last Monday and should drop below our third-place standing.

Dennis Huber and his lovely, bright bride Bernie WON thousands of dollars in the West Fargo VFW Tournament earlier this month. My partner, Jody and I were "out of the money" by a couple of hundred points. She and I also stopped at The M&J Saloon and Steakhous in W-F on the way home. I ordered a Bloody Mary which was a very, very pale red. More vodka than tomato juice for sure. But, remarkably, Jody had a can of tomato juice in her purse, (?) and saved the day. We reddened it up, drank 'er down, and headed to Duffy's for a decent drink.

A week from today, Loretta and I fly from Fargo to Montego Bay Jamaica. We stay at the Sunset Beach Resort, in case you want to stop by and say "hey mon." We leave at 7am and arrive at 12n. That's fast. I have two Kinky Friedman books to delve into while there. I laugh aloud at the Kinkster. I admire his love of animals and his wry sense of life.