Chilled

The moon is half full (or is it half epty?) Waterfowl are returning. I heard a couple of big flocks of (probably) swans flying south at dusk. They're probably ensconced in some rice field in the valley by now. So far I haven't heard any geese or ducks, but I expect them at any time. It's definitely getting colder, and will drop into the 30s later this week. There's more rain on the way, too.

I'm worried that the feral cats will freeze their furry little arses off. Alger, the hissy kitten, is sleeping alone on the chair on my back porch. I have no idea where the other two have bedded down, but I hope it's warm. Alger appears to have appointed himself the guard who watches the dragon's den in case the dragon (that would be me) comes out and tries to ravage Kittyland. The fact that the dragon brings the kitties food is of no consequence. He is not to be trusted!

Portia, of course, is in the house, nice and warm. She got some beef at dinner time and is sleeping it off. Later she'll wake up and insist on occupying my lap. She's one happy kitty.

I think they call it a cold snap because things get cold and snap.

Now I want a ginger snap.