Late Friday night, I received the following text message: "Seche tes larmes: Teddy a un petit frere!"
"Dry your tears: Teddy has a little brother!"
You can imagine my delight. The message included a photo of his petit frere looking perky and ready for adoption. The message came from the friend who gave me the late Ted who met his maker on Thursday. My-Reason-For-Living-In-France, the individual responsible for Ted's demise, is now in a quandary about whether his remains should be recycled into the paper/plastic/carton bin or the regular garbage. (We know he doesn't belong in with the wine bottles.)
We've opted for paper/plastic, if that doesn't work, we'll bury him.
If perchance you don't know what I'm talking about, slide on down to the post beneath for the obit.
Enough about Ted, we must move on. . .
On the calendar for next week:
Lots of surprises, news and views.
My pharmacy story.
On-the-street (I promise. I just couldn't drag myself out from under my quilt this week.)
Cherie may be returning from her extended -- forced -- vacation. Her huge fan base is clamoring for her pithy, snarky, insightful commentary on the fun-filled world of fashion and observations from the fast lane. (At least three of you have inquired about her whereabouts and begged for her reinstatement.)
If you have any questions for her, now is the time to pose them.
Footnote: You are all so adorable. Thank you for your kind words about Ted and moi meme.