Category Archives: Cats

A Hazy Shade of Winter

On Friday, the sky—to borrow from Simon and Garfunkel—was a hazy shade of winter.

In February in Maine, that can mean only one thing—snow—and snow it did, about five or six inches, which for northern New England is a nice little storm. The snow was not too heavy, and our trusty electric snow-thrower, Snow Joe, easily took care of it.

On Saturday, the skies cleared, and we had one of those beautiful winter days that Maine is known for.

Here is the view of our front yard from our living room window.

A side view from the window in my bedroom.

Kai decided he needed to look out the window, too. Perhaps he needs his own little camera?

Today—Monday, February 23—the sky is again a hazy shade of winter. A nor’easter is blowing up the coast, and this morning my daughter, who lives in Boston, wrote to tell me it is snowing so hard she can’t see the bridge from her window, a bridge that is usually visible.

South of us, in Portland, the nor’easter has hit with blowing snow and low visibility, but in central Maine, it has just begun to snow. The forecast is between four and eight inches. Again, no big deal for us.

For years, I wished we lived closer to the coast. I love the ocean and the sound of waves hitting the shore. The salt air and the cry of gulls. But now that the climate crisis is upon us, I am glad we live inland, where, as a rule, the storms aren’t as bad.

And although we live in a lakes region, not far from the Kennebec River, we live on a hill that keeps us high and dry when we do get storms. No flooding at our home at the edge of the woods. I wish I could write that this was our plan when we bought the house forty-two years ago, but it wasn’t. Instead, it was pure dumb luck. Always grateful when Chance is on our side.

Note: Long-time readers have been asking about Snow-Gauge Clif and when he will be featured on the blog. Well, I have some good news. Snow-Gauge Clif always makes his appearance on the first Monday in March and then on every Monday, usually into April, measuring the snow until it is gone. Next Monday is the first Monday in March. Stay tuned.

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Watching

How to Make a Killing

One of my blogging friends, Derrick Knight, mentioned in a comment that he can’t go to the movies anymore because he has to sit with his knees bent. I replied that in today’s post, I would show him why, with my creaky knees, I can go to the cinema and sit in comfort.

Here is the reason:

Our cinema has recliners, which I fondly refer to as Baracloungers, and they are oh-so-comfortable, especially for folks like me with creaky knees.

Our cinema, Regal, also offers a pass for $24 a month that lets us see one movie a day. Naturally, we don’t go to that many. We might be true-blue ciniphiles, but we have our limits. Usually, we see one movie a week, maybe two, depending on what’s showing. But even if we only see one, the cost is about $5 a movie, which is a wicked good deal.

Last weekend, we saw the crime thriller How to Make a Killing, a dark comedy about Becket, a young man from a rich family. Although his mother was banished, Becket is in line for a substantial inheritance, but other family members are ahead of him. What to do? Why kill them, of course. And that’s exactly what Beckett, played by the ever-charming Glenn Powell, sets out to do. Naturally, complications ensue along with a nifty plot twist at the end.

I’m only a little ashamed to admit that I enjoyed every minute of this movie, no doubt largely because of Powell’s charm. If you like dark comedy crime movies and shows, such as Burn Before Reading or Ripley, then you will probably like How to Make a Killing.

 

 

 

 

 

Some Good Things…

Readers must surely know that right now in the United States there is a constant fire hose of bad news that is covered, quite rightly, by various forms of media. No point in denying this bad news, and being somewhat of a news junky, I pay close attention.

But at least in my personal life, there are many good things happening too, and I hold on to them the way a person falling overboard might cling to a tossed life preserver ring. The good things help keep me afloat.

First and foremost, October in Maine. October in Maine is so glorious that it never fails to fill me with joy—that slant of sunlight reflected from the golden leaves; the deep blue sky made brilliant by the lack of humidity; the bursts of orange and red; the nutty smell of fallen leaves. I could go on and on singing the praises of October. And even this year, when the drought has muted the color of the changing leaves, it is still a wonderful month.

Here are pictures taken last week from my backyard.

A flash of red in the nearby woods,

yellow leaves against blue sky,

and the view from the patio.

Then there are the new cats, who despite their pesty ways with plants they shouldn’t be nibbling on, are bringing us so much joy and laughter.

Kai chilling on the cat tree
Little Fern helping me with my upcoming novel, Darcy Dansereau

 

Finally, there is another reason why October is such a special month for us: our eldest daughter Dee was born the end of October. We will be celebrating her birthday next Saturday with a trip to southern Maine, where we will meet our daughter Shannon and Mike. But that will be a story for next Monday.

 

 

 

 

 

One Heck of a Week with a Happy Caturday Ending

Last week was one of those weeks—nothing serious, thank goodness, but with some decidedly unpleasant moments.  We all have them, I know, and mine involved a trip to the dentist. I expect I could stop right here, and most readers would be able to sympathize. I won’t go into graphic details except to note I had a very difficult extraction that left me with a swollen face and an aching jaw. (Three more teeth to go, and then I’ll have an upper plate.)

To add to the fun, I had a Covid vaccine on Thursday. I was expecting a blah day on Friday, but my jaw was still bothering me so much that it masked whatever effect I might have had from the vaccine. I guess that comes under the category of “it’s an ill wind that blows no good.”

However the week ended on a much happier note: on Saturday, Dee adopted two cats from the Greater Androscoggin Humane Society. They are two years old, brother and sister, and obviously part Maine coon cat. The large one is the male, and Dee has named him Kai. The smaller one is his sister, and Dee has called her Fern.

Fern and Kai checking out the Narrows Pond Road.

 

Two sweeter cats you will never find, and Dee asked, “How could anyone give them up?”

“You don’t know the story,” I said. “So you can’t know the reason.”

But boy did we luck out with these two love bugs, who cuddle and purr on our laps. We were supposed to keep them isolated in a room for two weeks, but on the first day, Kai staged an escape, his sister followed, and that was that. They immediately became part of the household.

Dee, a cat whisperer, is in her element. Although Fern and Kai have bonded with all of us, Dee is the clear favorite. When a scary delivery truck pulled into our driveway, Fern bolted and hid under Dee’s bed until it was safe to come out.

The Humane Shelter can be a sad place with so many animals in cages waiting for a home, but it can also be a joyous place. As I was waiting for Dee to fill out the adoption paperwork, a mother with two adorable daughters came in looking for a small dog to take home.

“Come with me,” said one of the staff, and he led them to a room out back. I couldn’t see what happened next, but I sure could hear.

“Oh,” the little girls cried in piping voices, “you are so cute! You are so cute!”

I heard joyous barking, and I could imagine the scramble of paws as the little dog danced in the glow of their affection.

The man came out, leaving the mother and daughters alone with the dog, and we smiled at each other. I had tears in my eyes as I listened to the continuing happy commotion.

Sometimes, every once in a while, sad stories have a happy ending, and there were at least two that day at the Humane Society.

Lovely Fern on the sofa