Dear Madame Zoltar

Hello, my dew-dappled dandies!  How are you?  I am so sorry that I was out of it for the past two weeks.  I only jokingly referred to Mr. OrbsCorbs as the source of my malady.   I am still unsure what hit me, but I’m glad it’s gone.  As I get older, I get more “things” like that: aches, pains, sudden illness, etc.  Even my powers cannot stave off Father Time.  But I can sure slow him down: don’t forget to check out my full line of Madame Zoltar® brand potions, tonics, and concoctions.

Speaking of Mr. OrbsCorbs, I want to thank him for posting last week about our reading months previous.  The blog helped fill a void, I believe.  Mr. OrbsCorbs’ time approaches.  Fortune or failure?  It’s up to him.

I hope that you all had a Happy Easter.  Easter is a wonderful holiday that represents spring and rebirth and renewal and jelly beans and baked ham and Easter eggs.  Now, what do you do with all the leftover eggs?  Can I donate them to some charity?

So far, so good, with our nightly temperatures flirting with the freezing point again.  So many plants are now budding and flowering.  A killing frost would be disastrous.  Keep your buckets and leaf piles or mulch handy.  Just covering a plant protects it considerably.

I’d like to give a “howl out” to Racine’s Wolf Man from Romania’s Werewolf Man.  He is a faithful reader.  My blog is very popular in the homeland.

[Confidential to JayTeeDee: if you want to know what your enemies are really saying behind your back, I’ll need an additional $250.]

Finally, if you don’t want to scare children, then don’t wear purple:

Thank you one and all for stopping by to read my blog this week.  I’m overflowing with love for my readers because I haven’t been able to express it properly for awhile.  A big smooch for each of you, my dear, dear friends. 

What are your financial prospects after the impending apocalypse?  Madame Zoltar knows. madamezoltar@jtirregulars.com.

Keep the good weather, keep the good karma, keep the good times rolling irregularly along. Take care of yourselves, my sweets.  If you can’t be kind, at least be civil. Testudineous!