Well, here we are again.
We definitely DO NOT need Greenland. We’ve already got the weather and claiming anything else would be a pile of brown stuff–or white stuff, as the case may be. Anyone who’s not seeing climate change as a real thing, obviously does not have a real firm grip on reality. Hotter summers, colder winters–hmmm, what’s that say to you? Get out and take a walk in this stuff.
The OFA (Old Farmer’s Almanac) had a quote that I liked, “Cold cheeks make clear thoughts.” I could be a brilliant thinker, based upon my recent walks about. Hasn’t happened yet, but I’m not giving up.
This has postponed the transition of the current crop of kittens from being carried about or running along with me up to the Y. I could lose either of them in the drifts and icy footprints on the way up there. Carrying them is a pain in the patoot and they seem to have put on some poundage on their way to maturity. They both enjoy going up to the yoga class on Saturday morning–plenty of space to run around and play in, numerous toes and such to investigate, occasional treats and potted plants to attempt to climb (often with disastrous results). The Yoga-Glamour Girls in the class seem to be surviving the attention–and bringing treats, truth to tell.
I was going to start walking the kittens–we have leashes–around the neighborhood but this does not seem like the optimal time to attempt such a feat. We’d wind up with “kittensicles” for sure. Inside, they can just climb on the bed or onto a chair or in front of a heat source and Presto Change-O, warmth is all around–not to mention food available. No going outside au naturel for these two.
The senior cats, lately acquired, seem to be settling in, resigned to their reduced circumstances and the slightly less playful upstart kittens. They’re in no mood to go out there in that white stuff either. They’ve found locations for leisure and warm spots and figure, I guess, that they’re lifers, for better or worse.
The Porch Kitties–SonnyBoy and Lily–are hanging in there, spending a lot of time in the heated boxes, coming out to go to the water bowl and “use the facilities” and that’s about it. Sonny isn’t even hanging out in his watch-spot under the little tree by the garage. He doesn’t even scare the birds at the feeders any more. They’re too busy sucking down tons of seeds of all sorts.–best menu in town.
