The cat caught two mice yesterday. The first he clobbered in the usual fashion as it ran across the kitchen floor, but the second he spotted on the floor as he was patrolling the counter, so he pounced from above. Because this worked, he's now up on the counter, peering over the edge like a vulture, waiting for another mouse to pounce on. All very well, but these were his 10th and 11th lifetime mice, and only the 11th afforded him the opportunity for an airborne strike. The first 10 were sit-at-the-mousehole ambushes. But like all of us, he remembers his most recent success, and that's what he's trying to repeat. There may be a lesson in this, but it's probably Don't let Rozan near your dahlias, so I'll pass.

I, meanwhile, was given the Nero award last night for WINTER AND NIGHT. Named after Nero Wolfe -- and in the form of a bronze bust of Nero Wolfe -- it's given by the Wolfe pack, a group of Rex Stout devotees, at their annual banquet. Even with the two-day blizzard in NY (one of the news stations was telling people not to go outside alone, to use the buddy system, as though we were in danger of getting lost on the vast windblown steppes) the banquet was well-attended and lots of fun. And the food was GREAT -- recipes from the Nero Wolfe cookbook prepared by the executive chef at Cafe Centro. Any of you in the NY area, I recommend this restaurant. And any of you who haven't read him, I recommend Rex Stout.