Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm 59?

Your blogger (in stereo) at 59.  It happened yesterday (May 22nd).  I was minding my own business being 58, and, the next thing I knew, the last digit ticked up.

Meanwhile, we have a new cat.  He's a barn cat who would prefer to be with us and our cats, and we're happy to have him.  He's getting more trusting by the day.  A few of our male cats have issues with his being here, but hopefully they'll get over it.  There's nothing like the new-Tom-in-the-yard challenging ritual.  He's unneutered but very gentle--he's not initiating the "Reeawwwrrrr!" festivals.  Some Toms show up and try to take over, but not him.

And Tommy, who is indifferent to the presence of our newbie, says "Hi!"

Lee