I go home and talk to FFP. He goes out to trim some ivy back from the house and weed and stuff. Then he wants to go to Gardens to buy a couple of things and I go along to look around. At the plants and at the expensive furnishings. He gets some plants.

I talked to my dad earlier. He'd gotten Mom up to shower and have breakfast. He's thinking about lunch. He suggests I come over and see her. So I do. She is in her chair with the heating pad. I try to assess the situation. She feels better than yesterday. Dad is keeping her eating. I check her e-mail and update her virus protection. I work the crossword, asking them for answers to clues. They are still thinking although they don't get many. I keep toying with my dad.

Me: Net, five letters.

He: I don't know.

Me: Starts with S?

He: Nah.

Me: Starts with 'se?'

He, triumphant: seine!

I learn two new words from the puzzle: bole and osier.

I ask if I can go get anything. No, they are OK. Mom likes the bra I got her. There is nothing I can do. I'm glad she is better than yesterday, but I wish she'd get back on her feet.

I don't want to go out. I try to study Dreamweaver lessons, I try to enjoy surfing the WEB and reading. I can't find anything engaging on TV except the HBO Winston Churchill thing. Too much sadness and violence. Reading newspapers. Too much of the same. FFP goes to the grocery store. He buys enough that he comes and asks me to help him put it away. Even though he bought a pie.

Me: What's this?

FFP: I bought something for me. [It's a cream pie, something he knows I probably won't eat.] I should have gotten you those cookies.

Me: No. I'd just eat them.

I eat some Total cereal and milk and then I eat some cheese and crackers. Some good Morbier cheese. I eat too much of it. That's dinner. I make a drink in there. A vodka with some Diet Tonic I find on the shelf. I make a second but don't finish it.

I fall asleep in my chair. It is three in the A.M. tomorrow when I wake up. Chalow wants out. I let her and she runs like a shot to the south fence. I yell at her to come back and she does, miraculously. Then I smell it as she races back in. Skunk. She rubs her face on the carpet and runs and jumps in bed where FFP has just climbed in.

Me: Did you get sprayed by a skunk? (To himself) Can you smell her?

FFP: <gag> Get out of the bed Chalow.

I lock her in my office until morning so I can try to wash her. The eau de skunk hangs over the bedroom and the big room, though. Just when I thought there'd be no excitement to be had, huh?