Conglomerate

I don't know how you individually manage your blogs but, occasionally, when I have the time, I attempt to create a number of drafts ahead of the various days to which I will post. I like to have posts on tap from which to choose and, naturally, these can be shunted aside at the last moment for something time-sensitive. Sometimes this plan works well; sometimes I have nothing to post but at the last second. Sometimes I miss a day. I try to be consistent; this is difficult in the Real World.

Today finds me posting on Sunday, beginning at 7 PM PST. That means the sun is still out, but my cabin surrounding are beginning to dim and I can only see orange highlights on various pines above me, at their highest treetops. Through narrow openings I can see a blue background tinged with some pink-tinted clouds. Red sky at night -- sailor's delight.

This post happens to be freeform because that is how it us unreeling. I've visited all my Usual Suspects via comments and, having done so, I feel better. I don't think I have a point at all. I'm actually sure of it: no point at all for this post hence its title: Conglomerate.

It is now officially 11 days into Spring; where I live, at the 4,000-foot level in the Sierra Nevada mountains, my high temperature today was 51-degrees. The final vestige of snow, which had fallen from my metal roof, completely melted today. Up until yesterday, I'd actually had a snowpile on the deck.

For those who have followed my blog, I must admit: my gracious cat, Mose, is gone. I had acquired him from Placer County's The Cat House in November of 2005 whilst a kitten. He became the proverbial "bicoastal" cat when he traveled between my then-fiance's house and to my house in the mountains on the weekend. He customarily positioned himself under my rolltop's warming desk light adjacent the laptop on which I am now typing, with cat-paws sprawled across the keyboard.

Whilst in the valley below, one day he exited via a dog door and never returned. The neighborhood in which my wife resides is not ideal nor pretty; I can only hope that Mose somehow managed to be captured by a family that loves him at least as much as I loved him. I checked the area to see if he had been struck by a vehicle. I saw no such evidence. I believe he has been "captured" by another somewhat-local family because of his loving nature. I would very much like to believe this.

He was one upon which my now-wife said: "He was the only cat I ever encountered who liked me, enjoyed people, purred at the drop of a hat."

Only so true. I miss my stupid cat.

In the meantime, perhaps because the Lord has various plans for us, I seem to have since been adopted by a number of local feral cats in my neighborhood. They are clearly undomesticated and I would not presume to force civilization upon them. I have won them over with food -- imagine that. They now are sufficiently comfortable with me that I can pet them, beat them on their butts, scrapple their heads, pat them flat, and make them talk to me. One of them consistently refers to a former Chinese Leader: Mao.

Mayhaps with each departure, if we are clear to recognize same, comes a form of arrival?

I have been blessed by the Good Lord.

Such it is with my scattered thoughts for this post.

And oh, the photo? That is of a bear that my wife actually sewed for me on our Honeymoon. It leaves me incredulous. Someone actually created something for me. I am astounded and flabbergasted. How amazing is that?

I love her with all my heart.

BZ