Farewell to the Cat

Our cat died yesterday. When we returned from taking our daughter to college in Savannah, her hindquarters weren’t working properly — her gait was rather sideways, but  she could get around.   A trip to the vet only revealed some minor loss of kidney function, not uncommon in older cats, something to monitor rather than treat.  The gait improved somewhat, but she stopped eating, although she’d lap up a little food mixed with her water, a brothy slurry. Days passed, and the vet suggested some other foods, which we tried, but she got thinner and thinner.  At the last we did some force-feeding, but that didn’t miraculously jump-start her appetite.

During all this she enjoyed patrolling the perimeter of the yard, sitting in the sun, lapping water from flower pot saucers, stretching out on laps during tv time, and sleeping at the foot of the bed, although it got harder for her to clamber up there and she eventually needed to be lifted.

On her last evening with us, we happened to have a family dinner here, so she was gently petted by little Mary, snuggled by our son, and left resting in a favorite corner of the living room. She didn’t try to come upstairs to the bed, and died during the night.

Cat in the sun

I took this picture on her last stroll to the lake. Named Kachiko by our son, she was mostly called Cat, or perhaps Kat.  She excelled at catching dragonflies, and was a quiet companion.  She is buried under the Douglas fir in the backyard, in a spot of earth that catches the morning light, a good place for a cat to rest.

Gormless No More

I went to Ikea today and got a Gorm shelf for my garden hut.

Shelf, sweet shelf

The electric mower fits underneath nicely, and I can now get stuff up off the floor in an organized and tidy way.  I love being gormless no more!

The Times They Are A-Changin’

School Year Rose

I call this the School Year Rose, because it blooms in mid-June, the end of the school year here, and again with a small second flush in early September, at the beginning.  Its blooms are signs of transition to me, opportunities opening and closing, change, new beginnings, and endings. It is sweetly scented, sunny yellow, round and generous in form.  A lovely rose.  It’s a David Austin rose — the tag has gone missing, but I think it’s Charlotte. It  grows in a pot on my back deck, and yes, those are wine corks as mulch.  They do a good job, although the crows keep picking them up and tossing them into the grass down below.

All summer in a jar

I’ve put up some raspberry jam to enjoy during the bleak mid-winter, perhaps with some Ginger Scones. It’s good to have tangible reminders of summer, sunshine, and harvest.

I took some measurements for Mary’s sweater — hard to believe we all wore sleeves that were 8 inches long at some point!

Moving Ahead

Well, I may not do the WorldCon write-up, the Google talk write-up, or the last of the summer’s roses write-up, but I do have some fiber to show off, and it’s a quick and easy post.

As my little cousin Mary is getting bigger at the usual alarming rate that babies do, I really need to get cracking on the Baby Surprise Jacket I have planned for her.  I’ve been dyeing and spinning some chunky yarn in various bright colors

Yarn for BSJ

and just dyed what I hope will be enough roving to finish the project.

Fiber for yarn for BSJ

The unique construction of what is fondly referred to as the BSJ will turn all these various colors into neat stripes running around the wrists,  across the back,  down the front and around the hem of the jacket – here’s a good look at the way it is made.