It has been a long, dark fortnight, as we almost never say
here in the good old U.S. of A.
Things have been tough, what with the daily ups and downs
of The Woman in the Ratty Baffrobe,
the shocking oversight that deprived the world of Pope Spitty I,
and the twin disappointments of tardy food and vanishing playtimes.
It is the Ides of March, Kitties, and
I hear the satisfying scrape of Knives being readied.