Feline Perspective

The past week is a blur. Somewhere in the midst of talking to various government agencies about my friends' housing predicament, trying to get my catalog off to the printer, catching up on cover copy for the Spring 2012 list, cleaning up the gardens at church, getting my own vegetable garden ready for winter, canning salsa verde to use up the green tomatoes, sewing a new altar cover for church, and hand washing the dishes because the dishwasher is on the fritz, an entire week has passed by since I last took time to blog.

I've been meaning to sew new pillow shams and curtains so I can photograph the new bedroom furnishings and share them with you all. I've been meaning to clean off my desk. I've been meaning to to be mindful of my days, but they keep slipping by. The mornings are darker, the evenings come quicker, and the daylight is weakening as our part of the globe tilts farther and farther away from the sun.

It is in the 40s at night and I still haven't brought in my poor dwarf orange tree yet. I still have perennials and bushes in pots that I meant to plant in June that will now have to weather the winter in the cold frame. I need to bring in the lemongrass and chop it up and freeze it. I need to make some chili.

Thankfully, things are not looking quite as grim for my Chin friends as they were last Tuesday and we hope to avoid their eviction on the 21st. I thank you for your prayers and ask for still more that the paperwork that must be done can be done swiftly and correctly and that the wheels of bureaucracy will turn smoothly.

As I worked yesterday from my very sunny and comfortable bedroom, I took these photos of our cat Lydia. I think of her life as a cat, lying around, doing nothing, being fed and pet, soaking in rays of sun and shedding on my new quilt. There's a bit of jealousy there, until I realize that, compared to most of the world, that's basically what my life is like.

A generally enjoyable, white collar job I can do from the comfort of my well-furnished home with sun streaming in the window and a hot cup of coffee on the nightstand. Always enough to eat. Always a roof overhead. Always clothes to wear. While much of the rest of the world is pulling a heavy load, like an overladen donkey or ox, I am a lazy, entitled, self-absorbed cat.

May those of us in America, even those temporarily down on their luck, always remember that even the less fortunate among us are still at the very top in the world when it comes to wealth. We're most of us a bunch of pampered housecats.