Friday, December 04, 2009


I was feeling sick, but I agreed to go to the diner anyway. He got there first and had gotten us a booth and ordered his drink when I walked in. We sat and chatted for an hour and a half - about everything, as usual. I wasn't very hungry, so I ordered hot tea and grilled cheese. He got fried fish, macaroni and cheese, and a coke. It was super-cute. I made an origami hat out of the paper placemat. I tried to fit it on one of the glasses, but it was too snug. Finally, I put it on the ketchup bottles, where it fit perfectly. Then I thought slightly better of it and pulled the writing workshop pen out of my pocket and wrote "KETCHUP HAT" on the hat itself. I put it back on my husband. It made me happy.


Kaylee was meowing when I pulled into the driveway last night. It had been a wonderful day - productivity at work, a promise of references from an old professor, a 45 minute conversation with the current guy. I didn't see Kaylee as I turned the key in the lock to the front door. Usually she butts in around the screen as I pull it open. I paid more attention once I felt the blast of warm air from the inside of the house and noticed that Kaylee was mewling more pitifully and less demandingly than usual. And then I knew.

She was on the roof. I smiled and cursed at her affectionately, hoping my septuagenarian neighbors on either side weren't taking out their trash. Then I remembered how hubby had gotten her down before. Climbing on a chair and reaching for her wouldn't work. I tried it once, anyway, and I felt too unsafe to try for very long. He said he'd tried that tactic a different time and couldn't loosen her grip on the gutter. Nope - the only way to get her down was to remind her how she got up in the first place. I walked around the carport, opened the rickety wooden gate to the side and backyards, and walked until I was standing beneath one of the trees that grows next to the side of the house. I expected her to protest a bit more, but she maneuvered her way into the tree, plopping to successively lower branches, and sliding down the slope of wooden boards next to the piles of bricks and firewood. She was more grateful than aloof as she led me purposefully back to the front door.

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