There are so many things to write about that I am tempted to write about all of them at once and why not?

I'm writing in a stupor because I got around 3 hours worth of sleep last night, the way I'm supposed to now that fall is on the way, and I consumed an abnormal amount of dry-roasted peanuts in honey, and a salad of two huge ears of corn's worth of niblets with chopped tomatoes and lime juice for a late dinner around midnight. I'm a good fall girl. This is an inside joke. You would have to have read my first post to be in on it. There may be only one of us reading my blog and laughing my head off, but at least I've made one person a lighter-spirited person for being in on an inside joke.

A short time ago I was about to add a large bag of pastries from one of the bay area's finest bakeries to my compost heap when I remembered I had to start a laundry so I left the bakery bag on my kitchen counter and went to gather things to be washed.

Why put sweet things from a fine bakery into a compost heap? Because I could in a snap eat that entire bag of pastries and not feel a thing and I'm already well past being big enough for a lady my size. Where the bag of pastries came from is a post in itself so I won't go into it now.

My landlady's house is up a path from my little rental house in the woods. She lets me use her laundry room once a week and that's where I went to take my things. Mary, her part-time caretaker, was there but my landlady wasn't because she was, Mary told me, having her first dose of chemotherapy right about that time. My landlady, who is 81, was diagnosed with ovarian cancer three weeks ago and opted right away for chemo rather than do without. I found out from Mary that my landlady never eats and is malnourished so she may suffer more from the chemo than if she had eaten. She pretends to eat, Mary says, or takes one bite of something she claims she really likes and leaves it, and fills her used liquid-meal-in-a-bottle containers with water so it would appear that her refrigerator is well-stocked and no one nags her about not eating.

I was appalled to hear this because when my landlady has visited with me here, she's eaten like one of my foster kittens which is to say she ate like she was hungry and she sure liked her feed.

Well, forget the compost and my terrible addiction to eating any sweet that's been left unattended in my rental house! I will make a sweet little pudding for my landlady and bring it to her tomorrow because her anti-nausea pill will still be in effect.

Speaking of rental house, my landlady's family has just put me on a month-to-month lease in the event they need this place "for emergencies" and we renters know what that means.