Could it be?

I'm sitting in the hallway now smelling the dinners of the neighbors, just in from a walk around this section of Verona and waiting for our boy-scout host Andrea to come home so we can go to dinner. While walking, I was thinking about our cats, wondering how they are and deciding to write Neola, our friend who's house-sitting for us, to ask for a story or two about how adorable our cats are. Yes, I know it's pathetic. Shut it, as I've heard Neola says.

Lo and behold, we get into the flat and discover that Neola has written me first, to say nothing about the cats but everything about a certain letter arriving in the mail from Immigration. This is the reason for two postings in one day. Just to say...something has arrived in the mail back in Portland. We're not sure yet what it is but we've asked Neola to open it up for us, at her earliest convenience. I'm telling myself to expect that it's something bad, like last time, something we need to re-do. As they say, always expect delays and you'll never be disappointed or impatient. So...it's most likely a notice to do our homestudy again or that Ted's fingerprints weren't good enough because of his broken finger.

This is how we looked earlier today, possibly at exactly the same time as the mail was being pushed through the slot into our house.


Now Andrea is home, so time for dinner and vino vino vino.