He also wants to suit up and defeat the evil meringue for Sue.

I try to stay in the room when he's on the computer but I let him form his own thoughts. I do review his account when he's done. I tweeted twice under his name because he forgot to sign out.

Is six years old too early to buy him his own laptop?

I say let the little sucker stretch his wings!

You'll keep it safe and all that stuff.

I'm a little shocked at how well he replies and gets conversations going. I really didn't think he'd do this well.

In my completely uneducated child development view I'd think that communicating well in one venue would only enhance communicating well in others. Especially if he feels good about it.

I never wanted to Twitter but now Owen's in the mix I'm tempted.

I think I will attempt preserved lemons with the few that remain.

My old neighbor Mo (who was from Morocco), did preserved lemons. I have a vivid memory of him cutting up lemons and dumping them into a big glass jar of salt. Also, his family had their own olive grove.

Anyway, he's now in Switzerland with Maria (whose first fiance died in a car accident, and whose German Shepard - Maklo - was Emmett's first dog friend.) They're both biotech scientists.

Hec, you'll be happy to hear that when I realized I was out of ginger I used your candied ginger substitution trick.

Hec, you'll be happy to hear that when I realized I was out of ginger I used your candied ginger substitution trick.

Sweet!(er)!

Tonight, Matilda requested black beans and rice.

Easy enough to do, though since she's a 3 y.o. and "faithful as a pussycat" she declared (after the request) that she didn't like black beans.

Whatev!

Anyway, I did them for JZ and myself and opted for the Peruvian/Japanese/(some other culture) trick of added protein by adding on a [avert your eyes, ita] poached egg.

Mmmmmm.

I hope you TJ's having folk worship your good fortune!

Oh, I do.

Owen and his concern for Polgara is hysterical. Perhaps he will grow up and defeat the Insomnia Fairy!

Oof, Should be asleep.

But poor old Mister Kitty made a geriatric (as opposed to diabetic) mess with litter (peed on his feet, clumping litter,) which necessitated a bath, which was much needed anyway because he's been neglecting that. And a blow dry.

Why doesn't he do this earlier in the night??!

And I hate seeing him decline. It's inevitable, but it is sad. He sleeps, mostly, and is happy when he's awake. All I can ask.