There was a bird, a cat and now a dog. Lulu is the only dog I like because she is often exactly like the loving lap cat I've never had. Her personal masseuse and chef is also my dearest friend, Joe.

Last night, Joe fed a few of us dinner and several bottles of wine in his beautiful back yard. I drooped happily in my beach chair, pulling peas from their salted pods. I sat wondering how this strange crew of friends and acquaintences have managed to muddle through all these years. Some of it's love, but some of it's habit. We come together hoping that maybe, just maybe, this time we will each shine with the same kind of charm or wit or honesty that brought us together in the first place. And if that fails, there's always another glass of wine.