My bouts with insomnia are increasing, and during one of the few times I drifted off to sleep I dreamt of Mrs. S-F. I had apparently fussed about, making the room perfect for her visit, bringing out the best of everything, but Mamie only wanted wine (a reference to tonight's wine party, no doubt). Although several bottles were on display, none were chilled; somewhere she found a bottle of Finlandia vodka, of all things. She barked out an order for someone to bring some ice, saying "This will do fine." and I awoke. It was 3 AM and Mr. Astor was sleeping very deeply, as he always does.

My stress level isn't going to recede in the next few days, as Leopoldo must fly out to San Francisco because of a death in the family. That leaves me alone, a situation I dread and haven't experienced for over a year. I know for a fact that there are monsters under the bed and that pretty, tropical forest out back called The Garden is the perfect hiding place for all types of danger. The last time this happened a garden hose attacked me as I returned home one night. I could sleep with all the lights on like Terry does when Bob is not here, but then it looks even darker out there; and the noises--you have no idea.

Leo suggests I bring El Tigre, KiKi, back for those three days; he made it fine for his birthday, but grows more and more frail every time I see him (he can't even lift up his leg to pee anymore). The fear of his falling or otherwise hurting himself worries me, but then what doesn't?

We'll get through the wine adventure at the baroness's tonight, suffer through Mamie's incessant cackling, and just see what happens after Leo leaves in the morning. We both are in for a bumpy ride.