In the words of Montana Burns, “Let me welcome everybody to the dirty, dirty South.”

I hope you all have filled out your census forms. There was no field on there for felines, so the cat is a 72-year-old Hispanic boarder from Guatemala. We all count for representation and community resources, right? Stand up and be counted.

Springtime has a whole new meaning when you’re a homeowner. It’s home improvement time.

B Jr. is making new sounds all the time. He’ll get hung up on one syllable for a few days and repeat it over and over. “Di di” or “Ba ba” perhaps.

I found him chewing on something on the floor.

“What’s that in your mouth, son?”

“Boeuf” he said.

“Boy, I don’t know what that is, but I guarantee you it’s not ‘boeuf.’”

It needs to be spring cleaning time, because a baby will put anything and everything in his mouth.

A few days later, he seemed quite distressed.

“Junior, what’s the matter? What do you want little man?” I ask.

“Putt putt.”

“Oh . . . OK, you want to play Putt Putt.”

It seems the Internet has replaced God and religion to some. Where’s the first place you go in the mornings to feel connected and fulfilled? God or your e-mail? When you have serious questions on your mind and decisions to make, where do you turn? That all-knowing and ever-present . . . search engine?

When you need to find a source of comfort, meaning, direction and knowledge, don’t totally replace the spiritual with the digital.

A Stanley Cup Playoff game seven is one of the greatest events in sports. Jr. thinks Crosby will get the job done again this year; he’s without a doubt been the most dominant and decorated hockey player of Jr.’s lifetime.

Peace,