Furry

The kitty was not pleased with her dinner last night, and has been punishing me ever since. She pesters me to let her out, and then to let her back in. In between her ventures outdoors, she sits and gives me mournful looks, and emits plaintive, guilt inducing mews. She blames me for the rain as well, I suspect. Eventually, I'll give in and open a can of a different flavor. She's well aware of my purr addiction.

I think I've been getting too many carbs in my diet. I'm getting that all-over ache which indicates a protein shortage. Maybe I should eat the kitty's rejected can of turkey. I'm sure she wouldn't share her salmon or tuna with me. But I've never been fond of turkey. Maybe I'll settle for some peanut butter. I can remember when I could eat almost anything, with no ill effects. Not anymore. Now I have to watch everything. I wonder if the turkey is making the cat sick, and that's why she won't eat it? No, wait. She's sitting there staring at me. Hypnosis! She planted this entire train of thought in my head! She'll do anything to get me to open another can. I guess I'd better do it, or she'll stick bad dreams in my head.

Bright

The rain has stopped, the wet pavement is rapidly drying, and bright bursts of sunlight are making their way through the whipped topping of clouds that slide east. The few mild days last week had more effect than I had thought. I just noticed that half a dozen camellias have bloomed. This is only January! If the plants are fooled into thinking that spring has arrived, winter is bound bite them in the botanical equivalent of their asses! The heaviest snowfall I've ever seen here was in February. The plants may be madly optimistic, but I have no intention of putting away the heavy coat and the extra blankets just yet. Still, the day is so bright, however crisp the air. I will go out and bask in the light, and maybe the windburn won't be too bad.