Oh, golly, my bad.
Tom Sorenson, his wife Tilly and their three little Sorensens just appeared at the door and blessed me and the Mrs. with a lovely plate of chocolate chip cookies. Apparently, they drove 300 miles from a location they'd prefer not to disclose, and I respect that. Tom even answered my legal brain-buster while admitting his lawyer skills had become kind of rusty since his disbarment. Tilly did call the Mrs. a paranoid LN whack-job, and little Pudgie Sorensen (God, is he cute!) kicked my aged cat, but otherwise the visit went well and satisfied my clearly unfounded concerns.
Egg on my face, that's for sure.
Now I'm off to a golf tournament in Sydney for several days, so hopefully Tom, Martin, Roger, Otto and Peter can straighten out Who's on First and things can return to abnormal.
Sorry about that!