Thursday, July 27, 2017

Hot Day in July

Kitten, day six. And like some one else I could mention it feels a little like day six hundred. Speaking of which I suspect the Girl Cat has become a Sessions supporter, she has the far away unsmiling eyes of an ICE agent on duty, and if anyone has ever met one they'll know what I mean. For my part I cling to my socialist roots, Universal Rights and Responsibilities under the panoply of very distant yet bright stars in a dark night by turning Compost Piles, one of which really didn't need to be turned but to its great surprise I turned and watered it anyway. It's now sulking at well below ambient temperatures of around 90 Fahrenheit and I'm sure there's a lesson for a Beleaguered Congress in there somewhere..

The Girl Cat's hopes, dream and slightly frightening ambitions aside, I do think it's fair to say that the Kitten and I will be on much better terms if she learns to retract her claws. Does sound very peculiar to me, but I've been reliably informed that Kittens have to grow a while before they are able to do that. Unlike some, I'm not that big on Cute Factor when it uses the body parts of others to practice rock climbing. On the bright side she has taken an interest in vegetable gardening, fascinated by Bean harvesting, has a low opinion of Grasshoppers, not much good in the Just War against Stinkbug, the squished Stinkbug smell disgusts her, and I believe she now has some understanding that one third of the bed in the room where I sleep is my own preserve and not hilly terrain to be wandered around on at will during the hours of darkness

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