flan flan's life lessons

This is not the flan! I discovered this photo somewhere on the "internets"
awhile back and had to save it because it captures something tragic, yet true
about our relationship with cats. I must confess if our cats did this
we wouldn't share the same roof with them. We'd be forced to hire them out
as "hit kitties" to earn their keep and pay their own rent.

Flannery has been out all morning. I looked and looked out the window and did not see her. After a long while I began to worry so I went out and looked at her line more closely and realized she was looking down at me from the garage roof! She climbed the tree, you see - and was very proud of herself. I tugged a little at the line and realized that she was very tangled and could kill herself if she tried to come down the way she went up.

I began climbing the garage ladder to fetch her and she soon became excited and started to make her way down the tree. Soon she was hanging from her line with her claws clutching the mimosa for dear life #7 or 8... so I climbed up on the roof and reeled her in like a big furry fish.

She was purring like a maniac.

I guess our cats really do need us since the more freedom we give them the greater chance they'll find trouble. Maybe that's the problem with this nation. We've had so much freedom and
discovered so much trouble that we've buried ourselves in our own excess. I hope I am wrong.

1991ish

I haven't been spending as much time in front of my blog this summer as I would like. Between my sprained ankle and a stiff neck I've been a bit of a mess. Sunday morning someone I met in 1978 telephoned to say she was in town. Aha! Everything was better!

Mr dd and I met she and her godson at the pool and, like always, time seemed to stand still. She emailed me this video this morning. I do not know the circumstance but in conversation that evening her God son, the kid on the keyboard, told us he found it posted on Youtube. He is now an anthropology grad student.

Why is it so shocking to see this video (?)... because it is so 1991(?)... so foreign to the time when I knew her(?) So many things changed between 1978 and 1991 that it hurts my brain to think about and it hurts... and delights.... my eyes to witness it here. I am charmed and yet horrified(!)... we were young... and now we are much less so.