Lucky Hiding Places

"A place a cat tries to hide in is a lucky place."

~~ Dr. Xia, quoted in Wild Swans, 110 ~~

Beaumont in the Wrapping Paper Drawer

Pine in the Cereal & Table Cloth Cabinet

Fuqua, Napping Next to Josef's Ashes
A secret napping spot of our youngest cat, Fuqua (3 years old next month), is in the sunroom on the little underneath shelf of the wicker coffee table, wrapped around the can containing the ashes of our dear old Josef cat (who died in 2007 at age 19). As my sister Peggy said: "I find there are very few coincidences in this universe. Sweet little Fuqua is probably channeling equally sweet little Josef."

Even though Fuqua never met Josef, he seems to sense that there is some kind of special connection on that shelf! Some of Josef's toys are there, and you can also see Josef's favorite purple socks with green cuffs, which he loved dragging around the house or bringing up and leaving beside my bed as a present. They actually had little kittens printed on them as part of the original design! Once again, it's as if he knew that those socks were meant for cats! Cosmic!

Please see my Book Blog for more
Words of Wisdom from Wild Swans

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And so many more pictures
in my photo albums . . .

Love Me, Love My Cats
&
Love Me, Love My Cats Too

In - Between Time

No green beans left, but plenty of green leaves!

A few last okra blossoms.

Two late roses, dry leaves on the ground.
When fall came a haze lay across the cornfields, across the stands of goldenrod and farewell summer, until heaven and earth seemed bound together . . .

It was an in - between time: afternoon bygone, night not yet come, neither summer, nor fall. Leaves had had a six months' term, but still they hung, dusty and frayed, to the trees. Blooming was past, though. A rose that very morning, round and firm to the eye as an apple, dropped its petals at Mattie's feet as suddenly as if winter had exploded in its heart. Days began brisk, were finger-cold in the mornings . . . but by noon there was June heat and coats were a nuisance . . .

There was a a flutter of yellow across the driveway in the orchard, a butterfly . . . but no, it was a leaf falling from the Rambo tree. Good, she thought, summer is ending. (pp 4, 92)

from The Friendly Persuasion
by Jessamyn West

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My mother set off to see Comrade Wang one morning on a mild autumn day, the best time of year in Jinzhou. The summer heat had gone and the air had begun to grow cooler, but it was still warm enough to wear summer clothes. The wind and dust which plague the town for much of the year were deliciously absent. (p 115)

from Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China
by Jung Chang

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Goodbye Summer . . .

. . . Hello Fall!