From Prom Queens to Lost Pets

• My mother, who has voted Republican since the Reagan era, has become so dismayed by U.S. actions in Iraq that she wants to move to another country. Were she not caring for her elderly father at the moment, she says she would honestly relocate overseas. (Ireland is where she now imagines her exile.) Normally intolerant of criticism of the States, Mom has herself deemed the U.S. "a former prom queen who never got over herself."

• I had a dream in which Billy Crystal and I were on a road trip. He was an amiable traveling companion, but never, ever cracked a joke. I concealed from him my condescension toward his treacly new book on the joys of becoming a grandfather. I also hoped, again, that my father might start taking better care of his health if Adam and I were to make him a grandfather. (Nothing doing on that front, btw.)

• Our little farmhouse was totally transformed by its recent paint job. Three days ago, the place looked like Popeye's shack, given the mildewy discoloration of its cedar shingles. Today, the top part of the house is a warm brownish-red. (Totally satisfying to a person like myself, who thinks the best part of a hotel stay is having access to cable television's HGTV.) And the painters were so considerate - painting under and around one small cluster of morning glories, rather than ripping them off the porch post. True, the stems and leaves were spattered with cream-colored paint. But the purple trumpet-blooms remain.

• Our friendly neighbor across the street came over to compliment the new paint job. (Good thing he likes it, since he'll have to look at it more than we will.) While chatting with him, our entirely indoor cat — the cat I brought to this marriage and the one to whom I'm even more ridiculously devoted than I am to all three of our animals — managed to slip off the porch and disappear. I spent 20 minute looking for him before resigning myself to awaiting his return. (And kicking myself for having removed his collar with i.d. tag.) For a while, I tensely washed dishes, accidentally shattering Adam's beloved french press in the process. But Adam was completely cool about it. Not only did he sweep up the glass shards, he also went out and, in ten minutes time, found the darned cat. It was one of those days when Adam is my hero, and I told him so. Accepting my kisses, he said, "Please remember this the next time I screw up."