Ruth and I are comfy. Two of my cats are snoozing on the kitchen table. The dog is asleep in the bedroom. The outside cats have had the “wet food” canned dinner and are snug in their shelters. I didn’t feel grateful until now. You’re 100% right to get the hell out. Be tough, Jim.
I think that “home” is the most beautiful word in the English language.
I’m glad he got out of there too. I’ve been gone from Galveston too long to even guess at where he’s got the boat moored, but I don’t think there’s a place on the island that I’d like to ride out a Cat-5 on any craft. Not even the Queen Mary.
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