Cold Temperatures and Introspection

               We are getting into winter so it is crazy to complain about the cold, but I do anyway! The mercury was at 37° this morning. I keep the back study door propped open just enough to where Stumpy can open it up and squeeze himself through. The same goes for the door in this room leading into the backyard. The screen door which has the “cat flap” is double locked. This allows my big boy access to the outside whenever he wants. When the wind kicks up under these circumstances that back outside door will latch shut. When Stumpy wants in and that door is shut, he jumps to the top of the outside shower and pulls at the screen covering the bathroom window which is just off the bedroom. That wall amplifies of those big old claws plucking at the heavy screen so I can hear Stump’s announcement just about anywhere in the house. That bad boy woke me up a couple times during the night wanting back in. When you are owned by a cat, sometimes surrendering to the inevitable makes the best sense!

After his pill and breakfast Stumpy had to go back outside into the cold. His coat is extra thick so what I consider to be frigid temperatures does not affect him as much as I would think. Here is information I pulled for the innerwebs: Manx cats exhibit two coat lengths. The short-haired Manx has a double coat with a thick, short under-layer and a longer, coarse outer-layer with guard hairs. That pretty much describes Stumpy.

I don’t like for him to stay out in the cold for long periods of time. I did a quick check around the house for him with no success. He has his hiding spots. Policing up the kitchen I noticed the security light flashing on inside the carport. This light is pretty sensitive. Sure enough, looking out the window there was my boy staring up at me standing on the cold brick driveway. I went to the front door and called him into the house. He got a good loving down on my lap as I surfed the innerwebs reading my morning news blogs and journals. He is now sacked out on the bed. This is my morning routine. It is good.

This time of year always makes me introspective. I think as you age it is a normal progression of life. In 1978 I was in my own home. This house had been in the same family since it was built in 1880’s. I hosted Thanksgiving dinner that year. This turned into a family tradition which continued until 1994. Thanksgiving 1994 was such a melancholy event in it was known that this would be mom’s last Thanksgiving. In less than a month she would be gone. As usual I provided the comic relief. This was the first Thanksgiving I served up “smashed potatoes”. Poor mom was scandalized in how I mashed up unpeeled spuds. At first she swore she would not touch them, but she got brave and tried a forkful. She loved them! The peel is the best part! I can’t remember the last time I peeled a potato.

Here is a picture of mom and dad that Thanksgiving of 1978 in the dining room.

Mom’s last Thanksgiving 1994 in my upstairs back study. There was a coal stove in this room which kept the upstairs toasty warm. I’d put slices of lemon on the top to fragrance the air…it earned the name of the “lemon burner stove”! That old house made for a lot of unique happy memories.

I went into dangerous territory last night and was reading through my old paper journals from the years of 1993-1994. I don’t feel guilty about taking things easy now. Such a frenzied, active life my friends and I enjoyed. In spite of the sadness and tribulation we still managed to live through, cope, and enjoy the hand we had been dealt.</span

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