I had to move this operation upstairs so I could sit in front of the “Gosh! It’s Almost Like Daylight” lamp that I have hanging on my wall. Doing this sometimes lifts my spirits enough to feel like I am somewhere other than in a deep vat of blahness which, obviously, is not conducive to creative work of any ilk. I mean just the holidays alone would have been enough to bring me down but add to it repeated days of grey, grey, grey — albeit warm days of grey. There’s a little drawing of a happy sun on the front of the light. I guess it’s to remind us of what the genuine, real, natural, bright, warm sun actually looks like. It probably hasn’t been more than a couple of days without sun but as soon as this grey comes back, all memories of blue skies and bright suns go out the window, so to speak. The greyness of this Third Day of Christmas has been compounded by a slight drizzle falling which is just enough wet to make walking miserable. Bah Humbug, indeed.
It is the kind of day to just curl up on the couch, drink tea, eat the rest of the Christmas cookies just to get them OUT OF THE HOUSE and read something bad or trashy or both. But, alas, I couldn’t do that. No, I had to dutifully get up at 6:30 am to be ready for my aqualift up to aquafit. When someone is picking you up there is no way you can roll over in bed and say, “You know what? I don’t think I’ll go this Sunday morning.” Can’t happen. So off I went to splish splash for an hour where I pretended that perhaps, just maybe, when I left the sun would be shining and my spirits would rise to meet the day. That didn’t happen either.
Oh well, I would have had to be out and about at some point anyway since I — aka The Excellent Cat Sitter — had hungry cats to feed. This is the third year I’ve
been traipsing around the city bringing holiday cheer and company to home-alone cats. I do it at other times of the year, too, but somehow the cats seem lonelier at the holidays — maybe they get the blahs the same as me. This year all my cat clients are repeat customers. Alleluia. This meant that we didn’t have to go through that awkward getting-to-know-each-other phase of the relationship which sometimes can mean me crawling around on the floor — not an easy task for Harriet even before the surgery — and sweet talking a lonesome, scared, furry beast who owns sharp claws and teeth. I don’t blame them for doubting my, “Hey, it’s ok, Yeah, I’m a stranger but I’m the stranger who knows where the food is.”
But these guys and I have already done that dance so we can relax into just catching up on what’s been happening over the past year. Today, I was telling Ms. Olive and Tag — my first Excellent Cat Sitter clients — about the Cat Cafe on College Street. Olive was really interested and wondered if she could audition, bring her act to the cafe. I told her that even though she was definitely cute enough (and she is) it wasn’t that kind of a cafe. Tag — the guy in the house — snorted at the very idea of Olive singing in public. He was imperiously sitting on the table during the conversation. I’m sure that is probably forbidden but, hey, is there really any way for me or anyone else to keep a cat off of anyplace if it really wants to be there? We three get along really well. I think it has something to do with the fact that we are all South-of-the-Border, USA kind of folks. We talk the same language, you know. It’s like Tag and Olive never laugh when I say, “Hunh?” instead of “Eh?” and they have never once criticized my accent. There’s a lot to love about that.
While I was hanging out with them, I forgot all about the grey outside until I left and there it was ready to dump it’s blahness back on me. But, I still had two more houses to visit with two more cats to scratch behind the ears and exchange gossip with about the weird things that I’d seen on the subway — and, believe me, they were weirder than usual today. I’m sure it has something to do with the holiday season, tra la tra la. But now I’m home and the beasts here have properly scolded me for the various cat smells I have brought into the house. Rose particularly was upset. Not being subtle about anything, she deposited a hairball and her latest crunchies at my feet. What a sweet girl she is. But they’ll forgive me, especially since it’s getting close to supper time.
“They” say that it’s going to get colder tomorrow. We really haven’t had winter so we can’t complain. And anyway, maybe the cold will drive these grey skies away, away, away.