Well, folks, I’m still not back up and running here.  And alas, one of the things holding me down has finally come to its sad conclusion – my poor old cat Pupshaw, who you may remember from the Case of the Broken Fang back in 2013, and who lent her acting and modeling talents to Chapter 7, finally succumbed after a period of acute illness, at the age of 17 (which is something like 120 in cat years).  I raised her from a pup, and she lived a long and noble little life that set a most virtuous example of feline loyalty for her kind.  She was a good old girl, and I’m really torn up about it, but it’s okay.  She’s gone to wherever good cats go after a happy and eventful life.

I’ll be back up to speed again soon, I’m sure.  Sorry events keep overtaking me, but it’s the way of the world right now.