Seems one of the neighbourhood’s kitties has gone missing.
Mmmm…reward….
Seriously, check out the reward.
Do you think I can pass off Thomas as their missing cat?
Thomas the feral cat
There’s a bottle of wine in it for me if I can pull it off.
In other news, I’m afraid to go into my front garden in case there is black and white cat hair littering the ground around my daffodil.
Speaking of flowers, we have some!
Here’s to spring!
Cheers all!
It seems the man-eating daffodil from last week didn’t eat the neighbourhood feral cat after all.
Thomas the feral cat
The kids call him Thomas. I don’t know if anyone has actually been close enough to pick him up to see if he rattles; maybe he’s more a Thomasina. Here s/he is picking through the remnants that the garbage man left on the side of the road. Many of the neighbours leave food and water out for him/her, but I guess old habits die hard.
The daffodils are doing well so it seems spring is, in fact, here.
Stalking daffodil
You can see the dangerous daffodil in the background on the left in this picture. I still don’t trust it.
So it’s not really ON my paper route – I took these pictures in my own front yard. But I was on my way home from my paper route, so I’ve decided this counts.
My perennial weeds
I just wanted documentation that spring is coming. It is! And soon I’ll be able to leave my winter coat at home.
Gotcha!
Doesn’t it look like this daffodil is about to attack? I haven’t seen the neighbourhood feral cat in a few days….
Ah, the pleasures of living in southern Ontario. Instead of the forecasted mountain of snow, we’re having an ice storm. Power is intermittent. If it wasn’t so pretty it would be intolerable.
It took a bit of bravery to deliver my papers today. Having to listen for cracking from above and dodging falling branches.
Timber!
Living in an old part of town is pretty, but it’s also pretty dangerous when the ancient behemoths come crashing down.
My backdoor neighbour’s tree
I didn’t expect to post two of my adventures in one week, but today certainly deserves honourable mention.
Well, the good news is my laptop didn’t get stolen. Right, I should probably start at the beginning.
Upon stepping out my front door this morning with my papers I was pleasantly surprised. Not only has it warmed up a few degrees, the sun was coming out and … YAY! so are the flowers at the front of my house. I went back inside to get my sunglasses and my camera and, newspaper bag over my shoulder, set my glasses down absentmindedly to take a few shots of the new spring blossoms.
Lovely, yes?
So, both satisfied and happy with myself I stood up and reached into my pocket to find my sunglasses. Not there. Feeling a little sick I looked around my feet. Noth…. what’s that under my foot? Oh look!
Bent sunglasses!
So, cussing along my way, I finished off my paper route, but not without stopping by one of my customers – a dry cleaning business where the TV is always on – to find out that we’re to expect 15cm of snow Thursday and another 10cm on Friday. That’s a total accumulation of 10″ for my friends who haven’t caught up to the rest of the planet. You know who you are 😉
And then, to top it all off, I arrived home, put the key in the keyhole and…. locked the door. In my giddy glee I forgot to lock the house up.
The good news is… yeah. I have something to blog with.
In my recurring dream there is a house. It can’t always be found. Sometimes it’s in the city, hidden like the one in Harry Potter, squeezed between two others, sometimes I can only find it from the back. Sometimes it’s a barn and sometimes it’s just a vacant old thing with beer bottles scattered everywhere. Sometimes it’s in the country, looking out over acres and acres of landscape through large picture windows on the upper floor. But always, it’s hard to find.
I’ve dreamed of it falling to ruin with years of neglect and transient beings and cats. I’ve dreamed of living in it and oh how grand it was, with huge sunlit rooms. Many times the rooms are hidden too. Or they will be one after another so that I have to go through one to get to the next. No privacy – never any privacy in this house. And it never quite belongs to me, but always I used to live there. And I want it back.
The house of my dreams is always sinister.
Last night I dreamed it burned. Not all the way to the ground, but there were holes in it and the damage to the upstairs was extensive. The people who owned it, with whom I was visiting, wanted to keep it but it was no longer safe. It made my throat hurt. It hurt my heart.
I want it back.
Chicken’s eye view
So there I was, standing on the curb, waiting as I do every day to cross one of my town’s main thoroughfares. It’s not a particularly wide road, nor is the speed limit fast, but it’s busy enough that I have to wait most days. Today there was only one car coming, or so I thought. I was poised. I made the decision to cross.
Now, you know when your body is ready to move and suddenly you realise that maybe you shouldn’t let it? I didn’t see the other car. It wasn’t that close behind the one I did see, but it was close enough to make me hesitate. What it did was make me twitch. I had to make a split second choice. Stay or go. But my body was already in motion — so I ran!
Obviously I made it across the road — I’m here to talk about it. Had I been younger it would have been a little thrill. Since, however I’m at my age it was an adrenaline rush I’m still recovering from.
So why did the hen cross the road?
To feel like a spring chicken 🙂
The squirrels have been busy
It happens while we sleep. The squirrels — the most talented of them at least — sculpt likenesses of themselves around the neighbourhood. Here are two kissing. They will be the skinny ones that have no time for nut gathering, just in case you’re wondering which ones to look out for.
Gossamer Dream
Placed in morning light
Draped in gossamer wishes
I kneel to your pyre
Promise from sunrise springs
a new day brings
the sun
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