Ike

I'm sitting up way too late by myself, in the gameroom, writing this. The door to this room is shut, but that only slightly muffles the caterwauling of Ike, thirteen pounds of orange male tabby, who is pacing back and forth outside the door, exhibiting his own, feline version of sundowner's syndrome. Ike is named for the hurricane that was making land the first week in September 2008, when, at a little after 1:00 AM, he coincidentally wandered out of a ratty boxwood hedge that bordered a grocery store parking lot and in which he'd apparently been seeking shelter from the rain: friendly, curious, and, of course, hungry. Chris took him home, but somehow I ended up with him. I have no idea how old Ike is, but I'd guess he's a year or two, and prior to my taking him for his first set of shots a couple of weeks ago, I'd bet that he's never seen a vet because he's still, uh...intact.

This did not go unnoticed by 6-year-old Xander, who said, after watching Ike walk through my kitchen a couple of weeks ago: "Judi, I think there might be something wrong with Ike, because, have you noticed? He's a little, uh, swollen in the back."

Swollen indeed, a fact that is scheduled to be remedied bright and early tomorrow morning...and insofar as I'm concerned, not a moment too soon.

Nora, The Piano-Playing Cat

Check this out!

Leo The Champion (insofar as sleeping cats go)

Well, he doesn't play the piano, but I'm fond of him anyway...

hood ornaments, past and present

Once upon a time, a couple of light years ago, when I was a bride in Chicago, my ex and I were offered a lift home from a party in a Rolls Royce. Of course we accepted. It was a memorable experience. Among other things, I remember that I felt enveloped in a sense of luxury from the moment I sat down inside that car. The seats were leather and beautifully cushioned, and it was so quiet. It was by far superior to the most luxurious car in which I'd ridden up to that point, a limousine in which we'd been driven from the church in which we were married (St. Chrysostom's) to our reception at my father-in-law's co-op on Lake Shore Drive a year or so prior to the ride in the Rolls.

Fast forward, 31 years, to Dallas, November 18, 2005. I'm getting ready for my weekly Friday night sleepover date with Xander (my 3-year-old grandson if you're a new reader). This afternoon I made a quick trip to Albertson's to restock my supply of milk, Hershey's chocolate syrup, pretzels, frozen waffles, waffle syrup, and fudgsicles (sorry, Kath and Brenden, but that's pretty much what we eat as we watch endless movies and build elaborate structures with legos). I parked in front of my house to unload my groceries, and when I came out to get the last of them, I saw that my crazy Bengal cat, Mia, was once again going out of her way to make me feel good about myself...by posing as a hood ornament on my VW.

I appreciate the sentiment, but somehow it's just not the same...neither the hood ornament, nor the car *sigh*

another beautiful thing

Here's beautiful Mia, watching me photograph the orchid...