Don’t Expect Wit

Negative. Twenty. Degrees. Wind-chill.

Well, Wisconsin! You found your torture chamber! Wonderful! Just in time for Christmas!

Dad and I trudged off to church, my breath forming ice and shattering as gravity tossed it to the earth. The choir performed songs from Handel’s Messiah this morning, and I swallowed my emotion as the high sopranos raised, “King Of Kings, And Lord Of Lords!” from the engaged chorus.

I spent the afternoon scrapbooking with Mom. Nostalgia hung upon the air as we glanced through the photo albums of memories. We grimaced identically at images of our pre-weight-loss selves. We giggled at the silly grins captured forever on film.

After several hours of organization and artistic ability, we called it quits and reclined upon the living room furniture as the Green Bay Packer Game played out. I know that I dozed brokenly, the occasional referee whistle jolting the Sandman away. I was staring at the TV when I saw Jaguar Donovan Darius clothesline Robert Ferguson. It was ghastly. I moaned in commiseration at every replay. They carried him off of the field and Darius was ejected of course.

The Packers went on to lose the game.

Well…I know this hasn’t been an overly exciting account…but coincidentally, t’was not an overly exciting day. And I was cold. And I was emotional. Yeah! So…there!

Goodbye, Friend

I have been a little down since a beloved feline friend of mine passed away on Tuesday…there’s something very dear about the unconditional love of a pet…and something very heartrending about the loss of such an innocent creature.

Fred took me under his wing at a time in my life when I was feeling very afraid and very alone. He wasn’t a cat who trusted easily, which made his automatic affection toward me all the more special. He was diagnosed with FIP, that is Feline Infectious Peritonitis, and he was young. Thank goodness he is no longer suffering.