Set out the winter beds for the cats yesterday. Two old dog kennels, one old sleeping bag, one old packing blanket, two old small, bedding blankets, put out by one old man. This is the time of the year when the southern porch is a cat refuge at night and during the day, too. They sleep in and on and around the little pet bungalow and do their best to stay warm. When a hard freeze comes, I’ll put up heat lamps.

Later today, I’ll probably go around and put the Styrofoam covers on the faucets. It seems as though winter has finally arrived. Although, I’ll say that and within a week we’ll be back to spring-like temperatures. But winterizing everything makes me feel useful and its as much a part of the winter as anything the weather does. Plus, this weekend we’ll fall back into our old ways where the sun don’t shine until late, the darkness falls early, and I can go to bed at eight and not feel guilty. Then Christmas will come creeping around the corner, and presto the year will be over.

At the moment mama cat is giving my legs a good rub thanking me for breakfast, the bedding for last night, and another warm place to sleep during the day, I guess. She’s very touchy feely that way. During the day when I pass her by, as she slumbers on the back of the couch, she’ll give me a single meow and I’ll have to stop and say hello, with a couple of scritches on her neck and a rub behind the ears. She rumbles in appreciation. I rumble back and give her a slow blink and pretend I’m a cat, too. It’s not a role I ever thought I’d play, but it’s the cards I’ve been dealt, so I might as well go with it. It could be worse. And things can always be worse.