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Put Rocks in Your Pockets, My Friends
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The wind, it is a-blowing mighty hard in these here parts. And parts of the parts are partly in my back yard and not on neighbors' roofs and still attached to various trees, as they ought to be.

When I opened the kitchen door to let the dog out for her morning airing, two cats barrelled in from the back yard. I think they had been afraid to essay the cat door, what with all the leaves and flapping tarps and I don't know whatall.

Anyway, they're in here, protesting loudly that I should make it all stop right now and while I'm at it, why don't I feed them some cat treats (with hairball remedy) which would make up for the deprivations of the recent days. (Hah! As if.)

Dog, meanwhile, is hovering on the porch steps, no doubt saying to herself, "You want me to go out in that? Mama, I don't really have to go right now. But, on the other hand, if I just get it over with, I can come back inside and get beaten up by my favorite felines. And maybe even get a treat for being a Good Dog." Decisions, decisions.

I suppose, after I retire, I can claim my occupation as handmaiden/mother/crone to the friends-in-fur.

Not too bad a description right now.

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