Today brought one of life's sweet moments. Katie called to ask if I was watching Gilmore Girls.

I was.

It was the final episode - the one we first watched together in May 2007. Katie was still in high school then but I knew - and she knew - that it as just a matter of time before she would leave home like Rory.

Gilmore Girls premiered in October, 2000 when Katie was in fifth grade. We watched every Tuesday night rarely missing an episode. Even Nick - who was starting high school at the time - laments the fact that he knows too many lines from the show. And Jeff, who was usually in Dallas the first time around, has come to admire Lorelai's on-again, off-again beau Luke in reruns.

Today was sweet because it's what I wrote about in a Doings article the December before Katie graduated from high school. After collecting the seasons year after year, I gave Katie the seven season boxed set for Christmas so we could both have all the episodes at our fingertips. We could turn back the years by watching them at the same time - she at college and me at home.

So today I let the tears come when Lorelai said "It's too soon. I thought I had all summer to impart my wisdom."

And later when Rory said, "Mom. Mom. Mom. You've given me everything I need."

The sweet part is talking to Katie 2 1/2 years after that show first aired, knowing how well she's doing in life and her studies and like Rory, she has everything she needs.

Even sweeter is knowing that years later and miles apart, we can still connect over Gilmore Girls.

Along Came Zoey

Ozzie was approaching his one year birthday as a solitary cat, happy in his winter home with four pairs of arms to reach out and hold him. He learned to roam outdoors on a long leash, tracking the doves that landed by the pool and watching the ducks swim by in the lake. He perched on the rocks and sometimes fell into the pool. He would emerge wet but undaunted.

Yes, life was warm and comfortable for Ozzie far from the windy city and then...

...along came Zoey. She rocked his world and turned it upside down.

Nick and Lizzy brought Zoey home on January 30 - a pretty little eight month old kitten barely weighing in at five pounds. We barely saw her the first few days. She hid under the bed or in stayed in her kitty condo recovering from an upper respiratory infection. Little by little, she emerged and began playing with Nick's shoelace. As her coughs and sneezes disappeared, she appeared ready to become part of her new home.

But solitary Ozzie, older and wiser, wasn't too happy about this little intruder. Ozzie hissed and growled. Zoey hissed and growled in return. He attacked and got in trouble for picking on the little one. It seemed like a constant battle so we kept them separated. Suddenly, the hissing and growling stopped and curiosity took over. They raced around the house up and down the stairs from the living room to the family room chasing each other, bells ringing and fur flying. Ozzie would get Zoey in a neck hold, then she would struggle free and run away. Off they'd go again up and down the stairs from the living room to the family room.They still have their fur flying moments, but in the quiet of the day, when no one is watching, they seem content with each other...

...until the next wave of feline frenzy begins.

Is this February?

We couldn't lose on this gorgeous February day.

ASU was playing ASU in baseball. The 2010 Sun Devil roster against alumni players from various years. The young guys vs. the not so young guys. We cheered for them all because - as we're quickly discovering - once a Sun Devil always a Sun Devil.

Every university inspires alumni pride, but watching baseball in February inspires pride and joy - a joy that is usually reserved for mid-summer in Chicago, when afternoon baseball is warm and relaxed.

The Sun Devils beat the alumni 10 to 6 but it didn't much matter. We were all on the same side.

Eighty eight and going strong

It seems that every other person in Phoenix is from Chicago. The waitress at Macaroni Grill, the cashier at Ikea, the sales person at Nordstrom, even the dentist I randomly selected.

I've always known that growing up and going to college in Arizona, but back then I didn't have my own Chicago connection.

Freshman year at ASU, I quickly discovered that the girls who put on bikinis in February were mostly from Chicago or New York. They sunbathed while we natives wore sweaters and jeans. They were bound and determined to go home with a tan for spring break. And they did while the rest of us wore winter white.

When we originally moved from New Jersey to Phoenix in the 1960's, we stayed in a downtown Phoenix hotel owned by Greeks from Chicago, then moved to a bungalow owned by another Greek family from Chicago. We soon discovered Chicago Greeks populated Holy Trinity Church.

George and Olympia and their sons Louie and Steve moved to the desert for the same reason we left the east coast. Louie had out of control asthma like my mother. Back then doctors sent their patients packing citing the therapeutic benefits of a hot, dry climate.

I was in third grade the year Louie died. One morning he went to the hospital for an asthma attack and never came home. He was given the wrong medication or too much of the right medication – a mistake that sent his mother into a tirade of grief. She mourned her son by lashing out against the doctor who should have helped him and anyone else within her range, including my grandmother. “You’ll know how I feel when this happens to your daughter,” she said, referring to my mother’s asthma.

I don’t know how old Louie was but I suspect he was younger than he looked. I never saw him in anything but a short sleeve white button down shirt, dark tie and black pants. His had a receding hairline and was noticeably pale for living in Phoenix. He lived at home – the beloved son of a devoted mother. Olympia was angry and distraught after his death. She only wore black dresses. never giving up her grief.

Louie's father was sad and silent. His brother smoked too much and blended into the background, knowing that the favorite was gone and the best he could do for the rest of his life was take second place to his brother’s memory.

It's been about 47 years since Louie died. My mother celebrated her 88th birthday yesterday on January 31 - living with asthma but outliving Olympia's curse.