His eyes were never blue; they were dark the day he was born.
It is unbelievable, but he is graduating from high school this year.
Sigh.
They grow up too soon.
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April 2009
One Flake Remains
Snowflake
All the snow has melted; only one flake remains. If you know how to scratch a cat chin, play with string, and toss crinkle-balls, and if you don't screech when you see His Fuzziness walk through the room or chase after him with heavy-footed glee, you'll have a friend.
I've never had a part-Siamese cat before. His body build is different from the rest of our cats--he has a tall, lean look about him. His face is chiseled differently, too, with a distinctively-shaped muzzle. His claws cannot completely retract, so he cannot play with a soft paw (something very important to know when tantalizing him with a string). On the ends of each of his hairs is a small barb--which means the fur does not easily brush off of your Sunday-best clothing (or anything else...like the bedspread). I once read that the Siamese is half dog and half monkey--meaning he has the personality of worshiping you at your feet and never outgrowing the crazy kitty-like play.
Yup.
He wanders around the house, following me like a puppy. If I sit down, he often chooses my lap for his nap. My bed is his bed. Worship.
And then the monkey side. Did I ever tell you that he fell into a deep depression when I stole his play mice? I found those brightly colored scraps of fur with tails in a puddle of tipped-over water dish while making may way through the dark one too many times. For whatever reason, he cannot remember that he has a mouse in his mouth when he wants a drink of water...and then, SPLASH! Mouse is floating in the water! And OF COURSE he has to go digging for it, tipping the water dish over and creating the perfect scene for mom to find as she walks through the house at night with bare feet. One night I plopped those little mice on the shelf to dry and forgot about them.
His tail all but dragged on the floor. He stopped eating. He stopped purring. I took him to the vet, and we had no idea what was wrong with him.
A few days later, I found his mice and dangled them in front of his nose. The tail went up. He pounced. He played. He purred. He skidded around on the floor chasing and leaping and LAUGHING as only a white Siamese can laugh. Oh, great cat. Your mice and crinkle balls are collected, replaced, and guarded with near-holy religiosity...
And so. How do we put those two words together? Dog + Monkey...already have a do-nkey (well, we have two of them). Mong? Dogkey? or...
Flake.
Fits him well.
After the White; Before the Green
There is a time after the snow has melted when the the whole earth seems brown and drab.
If you were here, though, you'd hear all the cacophony of the birds, watch the cattle rollicking in the pastures, and feel the sunshine warming the land.
Sometimes spring is best absorbed with eyes closed.
Invasion
Asian Beetles. I'm told someone brought these to the United States to be used in green houses, but they escaped into the wild. They live here during the summer, eating the bugs on the soybeans. In the fall, all 15 billion of them attempt to crawl into the cracks of our 100 year-old house; we vacuum them up by the hordes. In the spring, those that have weathered in the walls of the house crawl out of the cracks and into our rooms. By the hundreds.
And did I tell you that they stink? They are fine until they feel threatened, and then they let loose a nasty smell...so we leave them alone as much as we can, unless we have a vacuum cleaner as a weapon.
In the bedding. On any warm, sunny window. In the curtains. On the computer table. In a water glass.
They bite.
There are days 100 year-old idyllic country houses lose their charm.
Banging At My Windows
Thump, flutter, bang. All day long. The windows of my home have been under attack for several days now. Mr. Cardinal can see his reflection in the glass, and he is diligently defending his territory. My son has awakened more than a few days grumbling about not being able to sleep with all of his thumpings and flutterings.
Will his assault come to an end once the mating season is over?
And Dana, a tripod set up at the window helps for steadying the hand for these photos. Sometimes I have to place paper on the glass, leaving only a spot for the lens, to keep the birds from seeing me. It is curious that this daddy Cardinal was my shyest bird all winter long. Any movement at the window, and he would flee from my bird feeder. This spring, however, he is relentlessly fluttering at the window--and the inside cats sit and watch and even pounce at him--and he doesn't seem to care!
Absolutely everything is out of focus in this photo--but here he is, Mr. Cardinal, entertaining Snowflake.
Sorry....
I've been dealing with the homeschool play where one of my sons had the lead role.
I've been taking care of a very sick parent.
I've been absent.
Sorry.
Here is something for those of you who might have missed me.
Blessings.
