For over a year now, I have been buying fresh fruit and homemade tamales from a little Mexican girl and her mom. They come by my office with flats of strawberries, mangoes, and melons in the spring and summer, and tamales in the fall and winter. I am a sucker for this stuff. It reminds me of when I lived in the Philippines, and vendors would come to my door with fruit, veggies, and the best fresh seafood I have ever had.

Today, my vendor came to my office again, and she had fresh strawberries and melon, and plastic containers full of some delicious-looking sliced mango, which I just love; I bought a package. But as I sat at my desk munching mango, my two coworkers watched me with looks of disgust and horror painted all over their faces. "How can you eat that?" one asked. "Now you're gonna get swine flu" said the other. I never even considered any of this, but my coworkers seem to be terrified of this swine flu thing. Nevermind that we work in a doctor's office and are exposed to many people on a daily basis. Iif we are going to get swine flu, we will most likely get it from one of the hundred or so souls who walk through our door every day.

I really doubt that I am doomed to contract swine flu from eating a nice, fresh piece of fruit. If I were, I think I'd already have it; the strawberries I had for breakfast this morning came from the same place as the mango. I bought them last week, and my family is not sick yet. But along with my nonchalant lack of fear comes something else: the refusal to panic over every perceived threat that is broadcast over the digital wires. Every day, I listen to well-dressed, well-paid anchor people tell me about yet another danger lurking around the corner waiting to kill me. Bird flu, mad cow, cancer of the hair...it is all the same. Some will get it...others will not. When it comes down to the skeleton of the matter, we all, each and every one of us, is going to die of the exact same thing. That certain killer is called...DEATH. It'll get us all in the end, and sometimes it gets creative, like, say, using a flu virus from a pig. The point is, I refuse to worry about it. I take precautions, like anyone else. Actually, I probably take more of them because I work in the medical field. I wash my hands at least twenty times a day, and I use hand sanitizer every time I return to my work station. In my line of work, it is just smart. And, largely due to that, I think, I rarely get sick. But, sometimes, in spite of my workplace cleanliness, I do get sick. It happens. But having lived through an extremely stressful several years, I have come to one conclusion: the stress of worry will kill you faster than any of that other stuff.

So, here I sit at my desk, finishing the last of my mango. It is really yummy. And I will probably buy some more next week, when my friend comes by again. I know these people, and I trust them. I will not by hi-tailing it down to Cabo for a vacation anytime soon, though. I'll wait for the swine flu to pass. Maybe I can get a weekend in then, just before the next plague shows its face. And it surely will. It's always something.

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Snoopy's kittens are now ten days old, and they are beginning to open their eyes. They are also showing signs of distinct personalities. They also have names. The two larger black boys are nearly identical, and are named Linus and Woodstock. Linus is the strongest and most vocal of the babies, and from my bedroom, I can hear his meow through the closed door to the dressing room. The little silver-gray girl is Sally; the darker striped girl is Lucy. And the smallest, the little black boy who nearly died, is Charlie Brown.

Snoopy is a wonderful mama, but she does enjoy getting out of her room sometimes, while the kittens are sleeping. I let her out for a break when I am home from work, when I can monitor the situation. She never goes farther than my bedroom, though, and can always hear when the babies call her. She is also very protective and vigilant, even when she is out and about. One day, Diesel, one of my other cats, dared enter the dressing room, and he tried to poke his head through the open closet door and investigate. That didn't fly one bit with Snoopy, who immediately flew off the bed where she was having a good cuddle and ran to the rescue. Now, Diesel and Snoopy usually get along well, which is good since Deez is at least three of Snoopy. At twenty-seven pounds of solid muscle, Deez is our largest cat. But that did not faze Snoopy one bit. She chased Diesel out of that bathroom, growling like she was a mother Siberian tiger, and Deez actually ran! I think he was completely shocked that little Snoopy would go after him like that. He, along with the other "kids" in our home, are much more careful when they go near the master bath now. Mama Snoopy is always on the watch.

Unlike humans, who tend to gain lots of weight during pregnancy, cats use much of their body fat to nourish the kittens, and are often quite thin immediately after kittening. (I sure wish I was a cat!) They need high-calorie high-protein food to give good milk and regain their weight. Snoopy is beginning to fill out again after giving birth, and her fur is soft and shiny again. She is also playful and mischievous again, reminding us that, although Snoopy is a mother, she is still very young.

Next week, the babies will start to move around a little more. Things should get really interesting then; stay tuned!