Luck Of The Irish

Faraway, my Tokyo cousin, is lucky enough to have a mother-in-law in the same hemisphere. He and his family have temporarily relocated to her home in China. The mom-in-law enjoys her toddler grandson; we enjoy knowing the Faraway clan are safe. Sis is especially fortunate as I gracefully retired from red velvet cake making although perhaps not from cutting hair. I hope Chantel is at the grocery store purchasing lottery tickets. That lucky girl escaped The Bachelor's Brad and might meet a nice guy in the produce section. Chicago is definitely a lucky Irish town. The city got Daisy and the Mizzou University Singers for a whole week. In less than two weeks, I'll get my turn with Daisy when she comes home for spring break. Also lucky, my neighbors who didn't shovel snow from their sidewalks. Turns out Tequila prefers to poop in her backyard. While my neighbors aren't shoveling vengeful piles of poop, I'm avoiding landmines. Cracker the kitty must be a tad Irish. He stretches in the sun and poops in fresh mulch. Ditto for the rolly polly kitty Slim Jim. Birdie's Irishness prevented her from spreading as much mulch as Big Guy wanted. She sprained her ankle to avoid yardwork. Wish I thought of that plan first. Big Guy knows he is lucky as I remind him. He has a beautiful, charming wife; two beautiful, charming daughters; and a yard to escape to. And we have a yard to send him to. We are the lucky ones.