And this:
He's obsessed with chairs tipping over on my deck. Maybe it'll take his mind off his guilt over drinking and upsetting Shelley or someone.
Actually it wasn't a wind-storm that blew the chairs over this time - it was me as I had to tip them over to get at wasp nests that the little bastard Asian paper wasps were building underneath them. I swear that ever since Richard got rid of his grapevines in Nuova Lazio that his wasps have made a waspline for the north.
Anyway, a big storm is coming so maybe I can report soon that the table has been upended.
Sorry about the wasps.
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