Oh no! says Gramsci. I drownded my mousie! Poor Gram. As if it wasn't bad enough my getting up at 1.45 a.m. to Zoom-attend a meeting in the UK, when he was allowed down to join me in my study (well, ok, he was brought down by popular request ... you know who you are, who was wondering where he was) - he found the meeting very boring, even though I was throwing his little mouse for him, and then he put it in his water bowl, where it became sodden, and no longer rattled, and what should he do?
And then ... he found I was packing a suitcase. Much though he thinks he would enjoy NYC and the Hudson Valley, I really don't share this assumption, though I will miss him dreadfully, and fully expect him to be full-grown-ocelot size by the time that I'm back.
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