spring is coming, ready or not.
pear blossoms already, tulip trees, redbuds blooming.
rumors on the wind that azaleas will be opening soon.
the jingle bell cat is a he, i believe, not a she as i first thought, and has decided that mi casa is su casa. yesterday he stood at the glass front door yowling to be let in, staring at me with blue blue eyes, clawing at the door, reaching for the door knob. the day before he'd snuck in and wandered about, skye cat stunned, following him on tippy toes. this morning, just a moment at the open door until skye ran him off, not far, i would wager; he's probably asleep somewhere in the backyard.
it is chapter 2 of the bob & maggie story, bob appearing on my front porch, what?, 19 years or so ago?, am i really that old? maggie the cat refused to let him in and so he hung about and hung about and hung about, made it his home, slept under the house during the winter. i fed him and eventually they came to terms, not particularly friendly terms, but terms nonetheless, and when i moved from the country to here in town, i brought him with us, and, as many of you know, he eventually left me for another woman, and moved in across the street with mary. a cat who made his way in the world. he ruled that house until the day he died.
the jingle bell cat is a long haired version of bob - much the same color - and skye looks enough like maggie to be her daughter, and this all feels so familiar. my reluctance. heart felt sighs when i open the blinds and see him waiting. he has tags, but katie says they are out of town tags, and i am hesitant to call that out of town vet, afraid jingle bells is too happy here in this yard, worried he will be yanked back from whence he came. so i stall and stammer, and watch a strange friendship evolve between he and skye. my mother would not believe it, she who thought this cat could not/would not adapt to change of any kind. to be truthful, that is part of the reason i let jingle bells stick his head inside my door. as a gift for my year of no mother, 2 days away from one year gone. it feels like a sign of some kind, and i have never been one to ignore signs. so he is here on and off, eating somewhere else, and right now maggie is sleeping on my bed, birdsong flying through the windows and open door.
i am wasting energy.
it is 59º outside, a bit cool,
but the house is open and the heater is on.
it is sunday morning in the sunshine, almost noon, a lazy day;
cars are few on the street outside.
it is almost spring.
i am wondering if i let jingle bells in, if a new mary will show up.
the idea makes me smile.