Morning cat

One of the cats was staring at me as I got ready for work this morning. It inspired the following:

Here kitty kitty,
Don't give me your pity.
I'm not as pathetic as that.
It's true that I pet you,
And feed you and vet you,
But I'm not a slave to a cat.

Sure, little feline,
Go make your bee-line,
Straight to your dish by the sink.
It's true that I feed you,
But I shouldn't need to,
If you were as great as you think.

I know you're content,
That your box has no scent,
Is a thank you too much to request?
Instead, as if bitter,
You'll scatter the litter,
You really can be such a pest.

I hear you crying,
As if you were dying,
When really you just want outside.
But if the time comes,
When you grow some thumbs,
That choice will be yours to decide.

So you see kitty,
It's you I should pity,
Surviving on what I have done.
So don't give a smirk,
As I head off to work,
And you take a nap in the sun.

Sleep tight

It's cold this morning and it snowed last night.   I'm always the first one up, and this morning I knew I would be spending some time shoveling before heading off to work.   Part of my routine in the morning is to check on the boys before heading downstairs.   N in particular has a habit of kicking off most of his blankets.   This morning I found him under a sheet and the corner of a blanket with two other blankets on the floor next to his bed.   I picked up the blankets and made sure he was properly covered.

And then, I waited for it.

I only had to wait about a second before he burrowed down into the blankets and let out a deep satisfying sigh.   I love that moment.   Throughout my life I've been the recipient of enough blanket tucks to know just how good it feels.   I love knowing that he feels that feeling and that I could be a part of it.

Something to carry with me as I clear the driveway in the dark.

Itch

I was getting dressed for work the other morning and my shoulder itched a little.   It can be so dry this time of year that it's not uncommon to feel a little itchy now and again.   This time, when I reached across and gave my bare shoulder a good scratch, my fingernail caught on something.   I pulled my hand away instantly, fearing I'd somehow ripped my skin with a razor-sharp nail.   I examined the nail - no sign of gore.   I wasn't sure if I found this reassuring or not.   I guess its always good to not be bleeding.   Still, that was the only theory I had for what had happened - uncertainty can be so unsettling.   I reached my hand around and slowly and gently ran my fingernails across my shoulder.   Ugh!   There it was again, definitely some sort of flap being pulled back.

I don't know why it didn't occur to me to do this earlier, but I finally went to the mirror to examine things closer.   Did I find some chunk of dead, lifeless, bloodless skin dangling off my body?   No.   I found the band-aid that the nurse had put over my flu shot - partially pulled up.

Getting Ready

Well, it's that time of year again. The stores all have their trees up, the radio stations are playing Christmas tunes - 'Tis the season, I guess. I've done a little online shopping, but I'm not quite in full Christmas mode. I'm still savoring the last remnants of Thanksgiving - it was just last week, wasn't it?

Around the house, things are transforming from one season to the next. Gone are the turkeys and pilgrims, making way for the Advent candles and calendar. Once again, I wish I would have hung up the outdoor lights a couple of weeks ago when it was warmer. Instead, I'll continue the tradition of waiting for a "nice" day that doesn't come. Eventually, I'll settle for a day that's not bitterly cold or windy - the December definition of a nice day. By then there will be sufficient snow or ice to make mounting a ladder a truly exhilarating experience. And once again, I will likely buy new lights rather than try to get the ones from last year working.

Ah, this truly is a season of preparing.