Here is Sister Lynn in her BIDEN FOR PRESIDENT WAGON.

I've been noshing on Triscuits and Pretzels while writing a Letter to the Editor of the Times Chronical. Lynn will review it for me.

Two packages finally arrived this morning, delivered by Dante the Mailman.

Super hard to open but I cut em with a scissors.

One was three packages of Ralston Purina, which I put in one of the drawers of my fridge.

I rearranged my kitchen so I didn't have to look and see bags from Marshalls and Giant swinging  close to the porch drawer.

Where did I put them?

Oh, I remember now.

Ahem.

In the cupboard on the floor when I keep the mousetraps.

Spent a few minutes trying on clothes downstairs.

A few things did fit BUT they smell from parfum.

Into the washer they will go along with panties I ordered from THE VERMONT COUNTRY STORE.

Panties that could fit on a baby elephant.

They are soaking now in hot water.

Did I mention my new TERRIBLE PROBLEM IN THE BASEMENT?

Sawdust is falling down.

Gordon Washburn will be out the morrow.

Thank you Gordon.

Watched Stevie Ray Vaughan last night on Austin City Limits.

Masterful. Dead at age 35.

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