An auspicious start...

Ah, so my week of rest, relaxation and felines has begun. And begun well. Upon arrival at Mansion d'Leans I was instructed, by way of symbols, to sit myself on the veranda where I was presented with a scrumptious lunch of fresh salmon and wild rice. My future female feline companion showed great restraint and sat by my side sunning herself without even pointing an eye at the direction of my feast. A fine show. I ate slowly and purposefully. Flaking away at the salmon while planning my week ahead. I am here to keep the female feline and the mysterious Bubba company while their masters are off sunning themselves on the Carolina shore. I am also here to put books in boxes. To box books, rather. I am also here to eat all the food that I possibly can. An appropriate challenge considering I weigh less than 150 pounds. Most certainly less than Bubba.

The female feline seems rather straight forward. She likes to lounge about in the sun, eat (presumably) and occasionally yawn and stretch. An admirable approach to life (not far off my own).

I have no idea where Bubba is, nor do I know his metaphysical leanings. However, I feel it safe to presume that Bubba too enjoys the fine art of eating. Even if his (her?) salmon appears from a can.

That's the cats.

As for the books... Well there are certainly a number of them- Oh! My female feline companion has joined me and I can add to her list of interests: a keen appreciation of petting. Right. So, the books seem daunting, but I do have a week. Shit. The cat is now on my lap. She is drooling on my leg... She is no longer on my lap. I never knew cats drooled... A habit inherited from her caretakers, I imagine. So, the books. The books are to all go into boxes. Within a week. The books are intriguing, and I worry about my ability to actually put them in boxes without reading what is inside. I shall first box those of little interest and save the best for last. The boxes are also intriguing. The residents of Mansion d'Leans are clearly enjoying life (perhaps even more so than my female feline). There is an enduring theme displayed on the boxes: Cutty Shark, Gibley's, Johnny Walker, Southern Comfort, Rawson's Reserve (and a number of other vineyards), Kahlua, Skyy, and the most exciting of all: Canadian Mist. I like that one. I can't imagine what in God's name Canadian Mist could be, but I intend on finding out soon. "I'm in the mood for some Canadian Mist!" Perhaps this explains my female companion's drooling.

The lunch, once again, was fantastic. Luckily, I didn't have to look far for desert either. The last time I was here I spied out some little coconut cakes. Needless to say they are no longer. I'm very well taken care of, it seems.

Off to box, where I will be accompanied by three members of generations long past. Fortunately, formal introductions have been made.

Perhaps Bubba will make an appearance.