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I'm scanning the trail of blog entries, going back a dozen years. And I look around me. MamaCat, 16, is lying back to back with her son, Persia, 14. He still feels so young to me. No signs of aging. He walks and springs like a young cat. He and MamaCat are each curled up, while lying back to back.

No regrets at allowing MamaCat to live another day - maybe even the time will stretch and stretch some more.

Somehow, today, I decided: I want to write my thoughts about this kind of thing - life and death, the value of one more day, whatever - and this kind of thing doesn't mix with the idea stuff I've been writing about. So here I am, starting one more think, with this hooking back in time.

Outside the seasons are going back and forth. Almost spring today. But it will be bitterly cold again in a couple of days, and it was bitterly cold a couple of days ago. Wild oscillations.

red so much to get the words down on paper. I have stacks and stack of such journal entries.

I did want to share some of what I wrote. But not all. Far from all. Another cat, Scruffers, is lying curled up beside me. And Madame, 17, the oldest cat, has just walked over my legs. She's the first cat who showed signs of aging. That was a couple of years ago. But she's still fine.

Life and living.

It's warm and cozy in this room, my bedroom. The light from outdoors is gray, but indoors there are soft lights, warm.

The day stretches ahead of me. Right now all is quiet - but I will soon move into doing.

I don't know who "you" are - the person reading - or even if there is any "you."

All the same it matters to me to be writing to "you" - I suppose in a way like it mattered to me, yesterday, when at the vet, to let Mamacat keep on living, for no other reason that she is alive and still able to live her cat life.

And with that, all the best for now,


posted March 8, 2017

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I'm scanning the trail
while looking around me.
The trail:
back and further back,
blogs and more blogs.
And now?

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