Actually, it’s been a sort of wet-wool period so far. No little lambies gamboling in the green grass to usher in the Vernal Equinox, a sort of prediction for a snowflake or two, 50% rain for the Road Apple Roubaix (Those people will ride in anything…and boast about it afterward.), sunshine for a few days, rain for a few days (OFA : “Sun-splashed and strangely vernal; hopes dashed by rain that seems eternal.”), we get through Ash Wednesday(Orthodox and everybody else)–preceded by Fat Tuesday, Daylight Savings Time switchover coming up (Spring forward, Fall back, remember). Gosh, if it isn’t one thing, it’s another. March is just chock-full of stuff.
The whole thing about Lent always interested me. Supposed to be a period of reflection and contemplation, starting off with a bang-up celebration in some quarters, just to get the rich foods out of the house, so you can think about more solemn things than feeding your face. I have lately learned that in some faith practices, the word “Alleluia” is not to be used during this time in services–saving it up for the big reveal on Easter. In school when I was a kid (rode a dinosaur to and from school or walked five miles–uphill, both ways–in the snow), the whole concept was lost on me for quite a while, being from a Protestant family, but we always noticed that during this period the school cafeteria served a whole lot more mac-n-cheese, tuna casserole, peanut butter-n-jelly sandwiches and such at lunch–especially on Fridays…not a good period for craving the excellent sloppy joes. The Catholic Church was a whole lot more strict about dietary rules back then. And we always knew when Lent started–Protestant or not–because the Catholic kids came to school on Ash Wednesday with ashes on their foreheads, late too, sometimes, if Father Kelly was running long on sermon time.
For some reason, the OFA lists two Ember Days (11th & 12th) in March, but not a clue what they are about, so I looked it up and, consequently, still don’t know exactly what they are–”quarterly periods of prayer and fasting in the liturgical calendar of Western Christian churches”–including immediately following St. Lucie’s Day, first Sunday in Lent, Pentecost (Whitsun) and Holy Cross Day (September 14). Got that? “Lenty, Penty, Crucy, Lucy” to coin a phrase. Don’t get me started on the weather prediction parts. You want it in English (“Fasting days and Emberings be, Lent ,Whitsun , Holyrood and Lucie.”)? Or in Latin (“Dat crux Lucia cineres charismata dia, quod sit in angaria, quarta sequens feria.”)? Sure you do.
Anyway, “Many littles make a mickle.” Figure that one out.
The cats–inside and out–seem to have survived all this without any particular ill effects. The porch kitties have stayed pretty warm in their condos; I added a tarp roof this year , which was, apparently, a pretty good idea, considering how much moisture has hit us, either liquid or frozen or the interesting combinations we’ve been treated to. Four porch kitties, four warm hidey-holes–works out pretty well. Their food dishes did get blown off the porch a couple of times but were rapidly recovered. Have to keep an eye on the water dish; it doesn’t get blown off, at least partly because it has a heating cord keeping it in place, however, sometimes it gets all-but dry, since it’s heated to keep the water from freezing–that’s another discussion. All four of the regulars–Mamma (Reformed), Sonny ( the fluffy orange, last-litter son of Mamma, not to be confused with Garfield, a similarly-colored feline from across the street with his own upper class habitat and a sidekick named Fluffy who resembles Lily from next door), Lily–just mentioned, who may have some sort of an issue with her eye but is not amenable to having any sort of concern lavished upon her, anything beyond limited petting and reassurances that she’s a “Good Kitty, good kitty”. Then there’s Spike, who just arrived this year, when he discovered the Free Lunch (actually Free Breakfast, seeing as how it goes out at 5:30 in the morning).
Spike seems to have injured his paw just lately; he goes around holding it up and sort of limping. He is also one who’s not interested in hopping into a carrier for a trip to the vet…or for anything else for that matter. He does, however, chirp sometimes and wanders back-and-forth along the side of the house so that he activates the motion-sensor lights and, I’m sure, drives the neighbors nuts. All of these worthy beasts have figured out that the upside neighbors are good for a petting or two, maybe a snack, on a good day and plenty of sunny exposure spots for a relaxing stretch to recover from an exhausting day of being a rigorously languorous feature on the street. All of them have learned to recognize me and my car heading for the drive and will come cat-jamming for the porch in hopes of a well-deserved snack.
Speaking of which, The Week reports that 39 percent of pet owners admit to having sampled their pets’ food before serving it; 29 per cent said it tasted surprisingly good.
I wouldn’t know.
