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Saturday, Caturday
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I think my cats are phototropic or something. As soon as the sun hits my bedroom window, they jump on the windowsill, then to the bed, then to the floor, and back, announcing the arrival of the sun in less than dulcet tones. More like vociferous yowls.

It's not so much that they're hungry--they have dry food available all the time--it's that they are convinced that sunshine is wake up time.

It's not bad in winter, when I get up before dawn anyway. That's when I get my revenge; when I wake *them* up and insist they get off the bed so I can rise and shine mumble my way across the room.

But in summer, it's quite the other way. Right now cats, sunrise, and I are in synch, but in a few weeks they will be bouncing around the room with the sun, while I'm pulling the pillow over my head for a few minutes' more sleep.

Yeah, we saw the attorney yesterday--but I'd rather write about cats. Avoidance, you know.

Happy caturday!

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