I am 64 years old. In a little less than a year, I will be eligible for Medicare. I get Senior discounts at some restuarants, movie matinees, and a few department stores on Tuesdays.

My throat has a spiderweb of fine lines running across it. My face has furrows: smile lines, laugh lines, frown lines, worry lines, squint lines, and lines that just showed up because they heard my face was the place to be.

Gravity is doing its thing, too. I am getting perilously close to having jowls. The bags under my eyes are growing their own bags.

And it goes without saying that it is only the miracle of better living through chemistry that turns my hair color back to something other than gray.

So do you know what I have smack dab in the middle of my chin? One large, shiny zit! WTF!!!!!

Bet you didn't know till just now that 64 is the new 16.

It's good for companies to warn their customers if the product can catch fire easily, but this is a freakin' log for the fireplace!

This is what I saw when I woke up yesterday. Snow! In Houston! I have lived here for 22 years and this is only the second time I have seen an accumulation of snow on the ground. I believe there has been some further inland, and we once had snow on the roof, but for snow that you can take pictures of and not have to explain to people what they're looking at --- well, this is a rarity and a very special treat. It was all gone by noon and I think the temperature got into the fifties, though the wind made it feel a lot colder.

Because all the vegeatation was force-fed a massive drink of salt water from the storm surge, all their leaves died. Most plants and trees then put out new leaves so they could get some fresh water circulating. I am wondering if those tender new leaves are going to be extra vulnerable to the cold.

This Bird of Paradise was in a big pot that broke when the surge tossed it around. Things were too chaotic to go shopping for a new pot right after the hurricane, so I just stuck it in the ground -- thinking, as I did so, that I was guaranteeing a freeze this year after several years without one, and hoping that this plant can miraculously survive.

If there is anything to reincarnation, I want to come back as one of my grandchildren or one of my cats. They are the most pampered creatures I know. A few years ago we had five cats, but all have died of complications of old age except Chula. She was at death's door after the hurricane, but we have nursed her back to excellent health. And she is The Queen. Or at least, she was.

On Sunday, Dolphin brought me a kitten. Her neighbor found it abandoned while she was jogging and brought it home. The kitten weighed less than 2 pounds, which means no shelter would take it except to euthanize, and the neighbor's dogs and the kitten were not a good fit. However, the neighbor knew that Dolphin was the biggest softie around, and had no trouble handing the kitten off. But sneaky Dolphin knew an even bigger softie, so here I am.

Here is the new member of the household.

His name was Orion for a day (because he has a belt) but it just didn't feel right when I said it. I was working my way through the alphabet, debating the merits of Darth, Elvis, Jedi and Luke (do you see a theme here?) when Guppy cut to the chase and suggested Yoda. And that fits. The force is definitely strong in this little one: you see him climbing up the couch, but an instant later you hear him pouncing on a ball in another room. Energetic he is, and loving, too.

Unfortunately, Chula is furious. We did not need another cat, she did not want another cat. She has been growling and spitting at Yoda. Last night I had Chula wrapped in her blanket on the couch, all soothed and happy, when Yoda jumped up there. Chula immediately growled at him, but Yoda just lay down on the edge of the blanket and turned his back to Chula. Every few minutes he would look back over his shoulder to see if Chula was still watching him. Once she gave up and ignored him, he laid his head down and snuggled into the corner of blanket he had managed to claim. It was obviously his intent when he first jumped on the couch to snuggle up to Chula. I hope she will relent and start mothering him soon. It would be good for both of them. And for me! Both cats seem to think that I should lavish attention on them all day long. What could possibly be more important?