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Sunday Cat Blogging

Well, it seems that I can't not catblog. A bit compulsive, yes. Luckily, Shelley has  a lovely post about Zoë, that will do very nicely:

Oh, she looks dangerous, doesn't she? Read the post to find how just how dangerous. Other reading:

Friday Ark
Carnival of the Cats
Carnival of the Dogs
Rascal Fair

Also note: this will be the last post in Friday Cat Blogging 4; Friday Cat Blogging 5 will be initiated (most likely) next week.

Thank you all for your kind thoughts.

Funk

So here's the deal -- I really do have Blogger's Block. I've been tired for a long time. A really long time, almost a decade now. There are breaks, though; days, or weeks, when the fatigue recedes and I feel almost well. I haven't had one of those breaks -- not one lasting more than a day or so -- for over a year, and it's wearing me out. It's hard to feel creative, it's hard to feel optimistic.

Then I go through periods, as I have recently, of reading the news; watching the news; thinking and feeling about the news. I get heavier and heavier. My world gets darker -- even the dozens of baby sparrows in the garden do not lighten it. All those wings, and no lift.

So, I am grouchy and grumpy and edgy. I promised a friend to make an appointment to see my doctor, which I will do tomorrow. But that won't change the news, now, will it? I'm going to be like that squirrel for awhile -- my eyes are closed; I can't see you and you can't see me.

The Liberal Media

Reporters -- not commentators, reporters -- on the same network (MSNBC) on Monday (Hardball) referred to supporters of Cindy Sheehan as “anti-war extremists” and today (Countdown) referred to Pat Robertson as “no extremist cleric.“

I'd like to see what dictionary they are using.

Blogger Block

Created with Magazine Cover Maker-- see more here.

lots

this is my lot
we each have our own lot

a lot is a sheaf of wheat
from our father’s field

a lot is a grain of wheat
from our mother’s hand

a lot is a stem of wheat
shaped like a key

a key to a room
a skeleton key

we each have our own room
sometimes a corner of my room

is a corner of your room
sometimes it isn’t

some rooms are small & dank
some are bright wheat fields

with broad horizons and locusts
sleeping in the soil

the wife of lot
looked back & now

seasons all our
solitary suppers

 

Felineous Lassitude

We are all a bit bored. Suffering a touch of ennui. Perhaps some diversion would liven things up. Here are a few cat games, some of which require flash or java or some other esoteric techy thing:

Cats
The Cat's Concentration Game
Action Cat's Feed the Cats Game
Meowhoo Club: Cat Games

Or perhaps you are so far into the kitty kat doldrums that you require spiritual assistance:

Ask the Mystic Cat

I asked the Mystic Cat what we should do this weekend, and it would not answer. Sigh. So perhaps we shall do the usual:

Friday Ark
The Carnival of the Cats
The Carnival of the Dogs

And you?

Friday Squirrel Blogging

EDITED to add today's squirrel news.

Missoula Shop Window

Snapshot 17 August 02005

I am waiting for the sky
to fall. I am waiting
to be wrapped in its blue
cloak. I wait for this pain
in my shoulders to grow
into wings. I wait for
the one who can lift me
without effort. I wait for
the people in this book
to step out and fold me
in. I am waiting for winter,
for this dream to open
into spring. I am waiting
to wake up.

I sit in this room with
the other petitioners,
with the flat wood tables,
with the magazines
and their glossy pages.
I am waiting for my name
to be called. I am waiting
to be told what to do. I am
rising to my feet. If you call
my name, shall I follow you?
These altered windows
shed the sun like water.
There is nothing out there,
on the other side.

Jane Austen Action Figure!

Trust scribblingwoman to find the only action figure I have ever coveted. And oh, I do!