23:52 - 05.03.06
biography
I've mentioned before that all the bushes in my yard are berry bearing. It wasn't an intentional design - just chose the plants that I liked - and could afford - the most. Mid-winter that means that my yard is a favorite stopover for all the wild birds that thrive in these part. I like that. So do the cats. Oh yeah. Their favorite past-time during daylight hour now is to stretch out along a sunny window sill and watch those birds. The males will occasionally take the pose of hunter and they truly seem to think that that should be enough for those windows to open obligingly so they can be the great provider for their women. Not so of course, but everyone is entitled to their dreams and fantasies. It is what keeps us going when life doesn't seem very kind isn't it? Not that life isn't good for these babies. House bound yes, but fed, cuddled and played with to their hearts content - mostly. These days though I have had to tussle with the group of them because they believe their hunting dreams take precedence over my needs. Specifically the half bathroom off my bedroom is the point of conflict. It is south facing and has a Nanking Cherry tree in front of it. Despite two panes of glass they feel this is the best hunting spot in the house. The fact that it is my bathroom doesn't seem to bother them at all - at least not until I try to evict them in the mornings so that I can prepare for my day. The last encounter felt like a scene from the Keystone Kops.
Mr Melchizedek - Mel for short - had assumed the crouched position and looked ready to spring. I could hear those birds chittering and laughing at him on the other side of the pane. It was almost as though they knew his thoughts and were taunting him - daring him to crash through to freedom - and about a foot of snow. Uh huh. Mr Mel was seconded by Mr Boots, both of whom have never set foot outside excepts when they were taken off to be neutered. You'd think they'd have gotten the hint wouldn't you? Ms Wildfire was sitting off to the side preening in the mirror, showing her admiration for those fearless hunters by cooing at them between strokes along her fur. Ms Snowy was languidly stretched out on top of the bookshelf that is the headboard for my bed, not really joining in but flicking her tail and mewling every so often in team spirit I guess. Ms Kitty knows what it is like to really hunt birds so she was off by the front window assessing her more realistic chances from there. She seemed to think the squirrels would make a better meal and I suspect that she is right. Not that she'll get the chance to measure of course.
Anyway I picked up Mr Mel and explained that as the human in the house I was comandeering the powder room for my own use. Ms Wildfire let out a miaou of protest as I tossed him onto the bed. Mr Boots rushed into the breach as Ms Wildfire rushed to join him as backup. I grabbed Mr Boots off his perch and tossed him onto the bed with Ms Wildfire following in quick succession. As I was lfting her onto my dressing table Mr Mel rushed back in between my legs snorting at me as he did so. This little vignette played itself out two or three times before those felines accepted that I meant what I said, but it was obvious they felt that I had done them wrong in G minor. Poor dears.
I was thoroughly ignored and shunned - at least until the pressing issue of clean water and fresh kibble became urgent. All the cats feel that their tails are the equivalent of an arm. It is quite often the case that one will correct my trajectory across a room by the simple action of wrapping said tail around my leg and pulling me in the "correct" direction. Should that fail to cnvince me of the need then the warm furry body is also pressed up against my leg - sort of shepherding, oh no how could they act like a d-o-g - you know. When they are irritated or impatient such as when I've deprived them of their sporting activities then they will sometimes all come at me from different angles and do a joint course correction so I don't have any options. Their angst was also reinforced during today as I would find a cat sailing just above my head as I walked downstairs or past certain pantries. Oh yes. Not exactly dive bombing the human but just reminding her what they could do if they wished. Whatever. Cat persons tend to be like cats though remember? Push us to a certain point and we'll ignore you, but watch for the claws - they aren't retractable. Fortunately for all, the cats and I are much too refined to do such base and vulgar things. Much easier to be frostier than a deep freeze midwinter morning for a time.
I have been having a lot of re-connections with different people occurring by email. I think it must be because we have reached that half and half sunlight and night stage of the seasons. Everyone is certain now that spring will soon be fully upon us. MEans we can go out to play with each other in the sun. Nights are still filled with dreams of chaos and confusion - sometimes still falling back into nightmares. Nowadays it tends to be more about the home base and about family. Just a lot of undirected energy I think.I was supposed to meet with my trainer today to talk about improvements to the course - especially for supervisory staff but each of us had our own crisis and backed ot almost simultaneously. I could feel a lot of anger at one point coming from her direction, but a phone call from her not long after - a voicemail - indicated that her luncheon guests had found their vehicle broke down in her driveway when they tried to leave. Guess that is what it was. Right? That would be frustrating no doubt but at least it was a warm day today - no fingertips freezing to the hood when the darn thing was lifted for the jumper cables or whatever.
I watched 8 Mile and Goonies tonight - just for a diversion. I usually don't like bio pix but it seems to be a theme right now. Maybe there is a lesson in there for me. Goonies was just sheer fun and I was taking a good look at the young Sean Astin. Who'd a thunk. Any way time for bed, maybe I'll just have good dreams tonight aftyer my movie therapy. Who knows?
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