Sometimes I lie awake before sleep comes, and compose lengthy, poetic and reflective blog posts in my head. Alas, they are often quite lugubrious as well: on death and dying, the meaning of it all, or the meaninglessness of it all...etc etc. Just last night, another cold spell, I thought of how my porch will look after I am gone: no warm pillows on chairs for wayward desperate cats, no friendly voice to usher them in for a snack and some warmth. Surely, most of the ones I have saved would be dead by now had I not saved them. But we only do what we can while we are here, as we have no control over the future, or how things may be afterward. Even as I write I find it difficult to express. I have had the cloud hanging over me all my life, but more so now that years seem to go by faster, and with them the onset of physical "issues". Would that we could simply dry up gracefully as my beloved amaryllis do: shrivel to paper thin, then gently fall off the stem.
Sigh.
So before I lose whatever audience I have left with my "waste of time" let us go back to cats and flowers for awhile, and keep at bay the darker thoughts. For this is all we have, this package deal, all that makes up this life, this gift that we sometimes curse in times of loss, pain and suffering. Yet always we cling to it - not ready to go, not just yet. I have many more seeds yet to sow...
The beautiful Rascal - our refugee from the cold...
Longfellow sleeps...
Bandito hears that wonderful sound: the can-opener!
Pink is the color of my true love's nose, in the evening, while he sleeps...Tristan.
"Cats ALWAYS live in the NOW. They are fully present in the moment. Even when that moment involves napping! They enjoy the NOW and make the most of it, whatever the day presents for them." Elaine Bailey
