Cold Day
Kennels are down. Heat lamps are on. The cats are cuddled up. The cold is here, major league stuff. Low 20s. Mama cat was the first one in. She claimed the best room. She just lies there and looks at me when I check on them. The other’s run off like I’ve set a trap. That’s a lot of work to go through, just to catch a cat. I don’t suppose it dawns on them they all crowd around the food bowl in the morning, with me standing there. Oh, well.
I did computer work yesterday. Stayed inside. A new bank bought my old bank. They sent me a new debit card last year. I had until the end of this month to activate it. I tarried because of Christmas and my unwillingness to hassle with changing the bank info everywhere I had my old card signed up. It turns out a lot of people have their fingers in my financial pie. I guess that’s to be expected in these digital money days. I can’t remember when I last cashed a paycheck.
Of course, there are a lot of things I can’t remember. Some of it’s for the good. I think that’s how the human brain works. We filter out the bad stuff, because who really wants to think about it. Or, if we don’t filter it out, we tame it down so it’s not really that bad. And why not? I think I’ve had enough pain recently to last several lifetimes, but there are others with more, so why dwell on it? Relatively speaking, my life has been a piece of cake, and a good one at that. So, I’m just going to be happy I have a roof over my head, a warm bed to sleep in, and good friends to talk with. Because in the end, asking for more might appear to be ungrateful.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale