I get up Saturday morning and am told that John Isberg is coming over to interview Owen in a couple of hours. Suddenly, the laundry that is on the dining room table finally gets put away, and the dusty glass that's been sitting on the sideboard washed, to be put back on shelves. My three boys are wonderful even if they do shake their head over me.

Kitchen view: Cyril's freshly washed hubcaps, glistening glass on the counter.

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Speaking of Cyril, Owen felt it was time for a fresh wax. That car is loved. I remember the first night we had him, Owen hated to leave him outside in the drive. He said he wanted to bring him in, wrap him in a blanket, and give him hot chocolate. I think he still feels that way.

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Can you smell it? September basil.

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Rascal adores his human.

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Onward.

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Thoughts?