SONNETTES DU MATIN

Cooder is pretty comfortable now, hanging out.

It's all jingle bells here in the morning. Since we moved to the country* (ish), both kittehs have collars and both collars have bells on them. Emmylou's has two, partly so she makes more noise and I know where she is. Cooder is not too prone to disappearing and will always attend if one shakes the treats bag. That noise-making is not a reliable Emmylou magnet. And although the flea problem is solved, she's still a cat and still has some grooming to do, and it her schedule calls for a vigorous, early morning cleaning. Do not ask for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee, right?

*(Y'all know the great Smog song, Let's Move to the Country?)

It is not a good sign that the holiday eating frenzy has barely begun and I have already stopped eating sensibly. Yesterday's grazing included buttered toast, black licorice, chocolate & caramel covered butter cookies, honey mustard pretzels, and who knows what else. On the other hand, perhaps I can take this realization as a time to slow down before the multitudes arrive, the intense cooking begins, and more nutritional mayhem is the order of the weekend.


The next day. Sometimes the little things are difficult to complete. I wrote this yesterday and yet, somehow, could not push publish.

Worship at the heat altar.