Letters from the Katie archive.
March 10, 1999
Your chinchilla can’t possibly have more personality than moi. I’m also very cute, with delicate front paws.
May 11, 1999
We have 10 duck’s eggs sitting in a makeshift incubator (a “Brandywine Construction” insulated cooler lined with one of your t-shirts and with a 20-watt bulb dangling inside). A big, fat brown duck had been sitting on them for about a week, but we scared her away unwittingly (by holding up a picture of your face). They make their nests on the ground, you see. Would you like a baby duck, if they hatch?
I have to go homeschool. My brain is leaking knowledge hither and yon.
June 4, 1999
From GA: I didn’t get to sleep till late last night because I was packing for my feis trip, and when I finally got into bed and almost to sleep, I heard a faint rustling from somewhere in the corner. Rustle rustle, stop. Rustle rustle flurry, stop. Oh man: it’s a mouse, I figured. Every time I moved, the noise stopped. So I sat up still in bed with my policeman’s flashlight at the ready. A rustle. A beam of light scanning the room, left to right and QUICK back to left again. Half an hour later I found the culprit. It was a moth, Kates. Thank God I had the courage to face it.
From Kate: I am so proud that you faced a moth and lived to tell the tale. It could have been a death’s head moth, which would have been utterly terrifying. If I were you (and there is some question as to whether I am), I’d wire the perimeter of your house for explosives. The potential value of your domain as a rental property is severly reduced if you don’t do something, ANYTHING…..