Sunday, December 28, 2003
Cold Mountain. It is always a few degrees cooler next to Sentinel Peak, and today is the coldest of the cold days so far. My house absorbs cool, clutches it in the thick fired adobe bricks. Releases the wickedness inside where the cats huddle in certain spots for warmth. Puff slumps across the top of the monitor. Mama and Bear and Princess squat on the window sill. Joey is, as always, off on her own on a pillow, curled tightly.
The cats are mad. I've closed off the study and their bathroom, turned on the little electric heater. A closed door presents an obstacle, whatever is on the other side must be better, inside the cat's mind. They peer beneath the door, reach under with their paws, attempt to pull the door open. When they fail they become disgruntled. Mama Cat swats at Joey, Puff complains loudly. If they get outside they immediately want back into the warm sanctuary, where that amazing human, you know the one that feeds us and gives us pets, hides in front of the box that makes that funny sound.
I read the New York Times today. Eating a bit of chocolate, I set the paper aside for a moment because I can't eat chocolate and read about human suffering- earthquake in Iran, wounded Iraqis, exploited Wal Mart employees. To divert myself I check Google and am pleased to see that the unofficial Senator Santorum webpage is now ranked fourth. I imagine indignant conservatives stumbling across that website and it warms my heart. For a moment I forget about the cold.
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The cats are mad. I've closed off the study and their bathroom, turned on the little electric heater. A closed door presents an obstacle, whatever is on the other side must be better, inside the cat's mind. They peer beneath the door, reach under with their paws, attempt to pull the door open. When they fail they become disgruntled. Mama Cat swats at Joey, Puff complains loudly. If they get outside they immediately want back into the warm sanctuary, where that amazing human, you know the one that feeds us and gives us pets, hides in front of the box that makes that funny sound.
I read the New York Times today. Eating a bit of chocolate, I set the paper aside for a moment because I can't eat chocolate and read about human suffering- earthquake in Iran, wounded Iraqis, exploited Wal Mart employees. To divert myself I check Google and am pleased to see that the unofficial Senator Santorum webpage is now ranked fourth. I imagine indignant conservatives stumbling across that website and it warms my heart. For a moment I forget about the cold.
