Longer ago than I care to think, I went on a laundry fit. I did several loads,
brought them up with full intention of sorting and hanging, and our dining
room table hasn't seen food since. Roxie has spoken, staked her claim, and
made it into Her Ladyship's Bed.

Roxie will sulk if any of the other girls curls up in my clothing--I say
girls because Stosh has the Archie Chair and no interest in my clothing. When
I do try to put my stuff away, Roxie will get up top like Queen of the
Mountain and defend her territory: she'll dig her claws into whatever clothes
I'm trying to remove and scold me.

Now we have to keep a box of *my* clothes at the end of the table. Needless
to say, my in-laws think I'm *really* weird.

Blessed be,
Baha