Bev is getting a new window for Christmas. The family room of our house had a nasty slider that opened to the backyard. The track of the slider was corroded, and the aluminum frame was dull and tarnished.

Earlier this week Russell, the glass guy, came and installed the new window. And what a difference it made! Bev has floated around the house and is looking forward to finding a treatment, painting, and doing other decorating. Getting rid of the old slider was like exorcising the remnants of the former owners.

Having a lovely place to invite people is pleasant. Since moving to Merced our house has become Grand Central Station, and we’ve enjoyed the added entertaining room that it has given us.

Our daughter is coming next week, and she is going to be Bev’s decorating consultant. I plan to make myself scarce as they start to slap paint and rearrange rooms.

The window won’t make our home more hospitable. But it will be nicer to look at.

Thursday night I was working in my office, and I kept hearing cat sounds. That’s not so unusual; our neighborhood has several that prowl around.

But as I listened, it sounded like this was a kitten, not a full grown cat. So I grabbed my flashlight and went out to see what the commotion was.

What I found was a little tiny ball of fur huddled up against the foundation of our house. He snarled and hissed at me as if he was a 500 pound lion.

Bev and I kept him for the night. Our petting and cooing at him, turned off his combativeness. We tried to feed him too, but he was so tiny he wouldn’t take our offerings.

I even bought a dropper to feed him on Friday. Nothing worked. Finally the animal control officer came and took our little house guest to where he could be adopted.

I’m not a cat lover, but I must admit that I enjoyed the little guest’s brief appearance.

About three weeks ago I took my car in for routine service. Merced Honda said it needed a new CV boot for the right front axle. No big deal, and that explained the little oil drops on my driveway. They said to schedule an appointment for the CV job.

The next week I took it in for that small repair. While there, they said that it would be prudent to replace the axle on that side. Again, no big deal. You might as well fix things like that when it is convenient rather than as an emergency repair.

I got my car back, and it drove a lot better. The steering was much tighter. Until….

On Sunday morning, September 10, I was driving, getting things ready for our 1st regular Sunday worship service. I was about to pull up to an intersection, and my car began making the most horrible grinding noise. I figured I had just lost my transmission. I had no forward motion. That created a big inconvenience for me on Sunday.

Monday I had it towed to Honda. “We’ll cover the cost if this is our fault, Mr. Logue.” Up until that point, I had assumed it was another thing going wrong on my car. But it wasn’t. It was the axle. Too short.

They repaired it, and I picked it up on Tuesday evening. I got about half a mile from Honda, and it started again. I called Honda, and they sent a tow truck at their expense to pick up my car. They also provided a free rental car. I couldn’t have asked for them to be any kinder.

I got my car back yesterday. It is nice to have it back, and even nicer that I didn’t have to pay for the added repairs.

We’ve got a Diva in the house now. Bev auditioned recently for Fiddler on the Roof, and got a role. She will be playing Yente, the Matchmaker.

She is enjoying the process of putting together live theater. The first couple of nights were used to work through the music, especially the group numbers. This weekend will be for blocking the moves of the actors.

The role she is playing is of that of the matchmaker in the tsarist Russia town of in Anatevka in 1905. The role of Yente is a charming role, and it brings humor to the story.

The play begins in mid September and runs for three weekends. The people cast for the roles are very talented people, and it will be a wonderfully presented play.

We’ve got a Diva in the house now. Bev auditioned recently for Fiddler on the Roof, and got a role. She will be playing Yente, the Matchmaker.

She is enjoying the process of putting together live theater. The first couple of nights were used to work through the music, especially the group numbers. This weekend will be for blocking the moves of the actors.

The role she is playing is of that of the matchmaker in the tsarist Russia town of in Anatevka in 1905. The role of Yente is a charming role, and it brings humor to the story.

The play begins in mid September and runs for three weekends. The people cast for the roles are very talented people, and it will be a wonderfully presented play.

At 5:00 last night I suddenly had the fear that I had misremembered the time we were supposed to meet the others. I made some quick calls, but got no one.

So Bev and I left at 6:15 for a restaurant that we knew only as “The Hostel.” We were told it was a really good place to eat, and that it was located on the other side of Mariposa toward Yosemite.

We stopped at a gas station in Mariposa to get directions. “Where is ‘the hostel and how far away is it?'” The attendant told me it was about 5 miles up the road on the left.

If it had been up to me we would have turned around. We had driven a long way, passed a lot of places where a nice restaurant might have been, but no “Hostel.” But then, at the bottom of a long hill, was a sign for “Yosemite Bug Hostel and Cafe.” Up on the hill were a large number of cabins and lots of cars.

We parked the car and went into the cafe, hoping to see the friends we were meeting. No friends! By now it was 7:30, and I understood why the meeting time was set this late.

For a moment I was entertaining the idea that there must be another “The Hostel” somewhere around. I even asked a guy if he knew about another one. Bev and I sat for a while, and then our friends began to arrive. Eureka!

We had a perfectly delightful evening with three other couples as well as a very good meal in a place you’d never expect on the road to Yosemite.

At 5:00 last night I suddenly had the fear that I had misremembered the time we were supposed to meet the others. I made some quick calls, but got no one.

So Bev and I left at 6:15 for a restaurant that we knew only as “The Hostel.” We were told it was a really good place to eat, and that it was located on the other side of Mariposa toward Yosemite.

We stopped at a gas station in Mariposa to get directions. “Where is ‘the hostel and how far away is it?'” The attendant told me it was about 5 miles up the road on the left.

If it had been up to me we would have turned around. We had driven a long way, passed a lot of places where a nice restaurant might have been, but no “Hostel.” But then, at the bottom of a long hill, was a sign for “Yosemite Bug Hostel and Cafe.” Up on the hill were a large number of cabins and lots of cars.

We parked the car and went into the cafe, hoping to see the friends we were meeting. No friends! By now it was 7:30, and I understood why the meeting time was set this late.

For a moment I was entertaining the idea that there must be another “The Hostel” somewhere around. I even asked a guy if he knew about another one. Bev and I sat for a while, and then our friends began to arrive. Eureka!

We had a perfectly delightful evening with three other couples as well as a very good meal in a place you’d never expect on the road to Yosemite.