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That’s it. I’ve got to get a cat. This was the longest stretch my house had been cat-less, more than a year since our last cat, toothless, lovely Smitten, hadn’t returned from her wanderings one morning as she’d done like clock-work for many years.
She was Wally’s cat, a Christmas gift from another D-I-L. He loved that cat. So much that when our vet, Justin Blake, told us she had severe gum disease which was affecting her health and should have all her teeth out, Wally didn’t hesitate. “Let’s do it,” he said to me.
This Week in Lincolnville: Vaccine Envy No More
..the wait seemed endless Mon, 02/15/2021 - 10:45am
Our hens taking advantage of a sunny day in the middle of February.
Photo by Diane O’Brien
Yes, I admit it, I was envious that everyone I knew had already gotten their first vaccine and carried around in their wallets a card with their
second appointment! How was that fair? I kept my phone close and answered every single sketchy number that rang, (except for the only one I ignored, the one that came up “probable scam”; it turned out that was actually from the Covid hotline – with my appointment???)
A couple of snowfalls were enough to turn Tanglewood’s rooty, rocky trails into smooth paths that took you everywhere through that magical forest. Gliding through the silent, snowy woods early in the morning or under the full moon is only a memory now.
A week into February and the winter of ’21 looks to be repeating the recent cycle of snow-rain-freeze-thaw. Farley’s plows are making the rounds of Lincolnville’s roads this morning, and it does promise to be cold for a few days. But what good is the cold without enough snow to play in?
Thirty years ago, my middle son zinged me with “Don’t tell me things were better when you were a kid. This is the only childhood I’ve got, and I like it.” So, yes, there’s that.
Don and I both puzzled over that one, he determined not to Google it and me not to call my math teacher son. We never came up with it and blamed our aging brains. I finished the scarf, and yes it was longer, but because I changed needle sizes it became a moot point. I just looked up “moot” on my Word Thesaurus: “unresolved.”
He is adamant about remembering someday, without the aid of Google, the name of the motel where Martin Luther King was killed. As a former Memphis resident, he says he drove by it frequently and knows it as well as his own name. Yeah.