Done with All Saints’ and All Souls’ Days, done with Election Day, done with the Full Beaver Moon (Didn’t see them out celebrating), daylight has been saved once more…what else is on our plate for November? We already did “Clock hands spin, let’s sleep in! Snowfalls begin and frost nips your skin”.
Well, to further quote the OFA, “Veterans deserve thanks from us all and maybe some help when shovelin’ calls.” Remember that on the 11th–or every day, for that matter. Indian Summer gets a mention on the 12th and World Kindness Day on the 13th (try to remember that more often, wouldja). Then things get pretty slow until the 27th–Thanksgiving. OFA hits it on the head again with this bit of verse byGeorge Carlton Roderick, Jr., “For the year of peace and plenty/ And for blessings without end, Let the voices of the people / In Thanksgiving praises blend.”
Of course, the Old Farmer can’t resist a spot of “gloom & doom” with his last rhyme, “Annual feasts now are fixed, amidst a bone-chilling wintry mix.” You have been warned.
And then there’s the “cat situation”.
Rusty, the light orange recent 10-week-old kitten–now about 12-week-old–seems to be settling in just fine…goes with me to exercise at the Y, chases everything, attempts to climb trees, hides out under parked cars ( not cars in the street so far), plays with just about everyone, purrs like a contented lion, loves toys that squeak, has sharp little teeth and claws, as everyone has noticed and is eating just fine, thank you very much.
But now, he has a new playmate, a girlfriend, so to speak, who is smaller, who is black with white feet and a white bib of sorts and who is still just looking around the new venue, which is indoors instead of out in the garage. Well, it was getting COLD out there. This one is named Catnip, or Nipper, for short( actually, that’s longer, but you get it, right?). She has not got a collar yet, as Rusty has–he keeps trying to chase it and is not succeeding, but he does make noise with the bell and the nametag. She just watches and is probably wondering if she can make an escape to a cat sanctuary where not everybody is nuts like here.. Don’t think that she will be joining the exercise routine anytime soon; there’s only so much folks are going to tolerate in a public facility. Maybe if she decided to bring in some of her own toys…nah, nobody else likes to chase balls or wadded-up paper, other than Rusty; I don’t, most of the time.
But ya never know.
