Monochrome...

A lazy and very rainy day at home... again. Madison discovered the fish tank, all those moving colors and patterns have mesmerized her. She also discovered that she can jump up onto the back of the sofa. Uh-oh.

The woods have gone monochrome outside the windows, shades of brown over green grass (which has thankfully stopped growing). I miss the autumn colors. The rain has created a reflecting pool in the low ground beyond the old orchard. Too bad it's too wet to go explore.

I still haven't unpacked from the long weekend in Point Roberts; did I catch the bug that DW had over Thanksgiving? I sincerely hope not.

How did I get here?

Madison sits and stares at us, those amber eyes watching wherever we go. I can just hear her thinking: where am I, how did I get here, and... who are you?

Today was cold and dry, a good day to sit by the fire. Madison and I spent the morning snuggling on the couch. We did so well with this kitten... she's absolutely perfect, and we're both smitten.

I should have run errands on such a nice day, but couldn't bring myself to leave our new kitty alone. So I worked on Christmas decorations, and did some writing, and kept the fire going, while DW helped a friend haul his boat out of the water for some repairs.

We watched a bit of NCIS, grabbed a geocache, and bought a Papa Murphy's pizza to go with the growler of Boundary Bay brown we brought home yesterday. Pizza and beer is an old habit that can't get started again... but neither of us feels all that good today, so not cooking sounded just fine.

Madison

The cat search took us to three shelters in the north, on our drive to Canada. And at the last one, we found the perfect kitten. We saw lots of cats and kittens that would have made great additions to the family, but when I saw this wee bundle of fluff, I just knew she was the one.

I've been collecting favorite names for months now, both for dogs and cats, thinking ahead (and doing a bit of wishful thinking, I admit).

In the last shelter, in the last room, after looking at a cage full of adorable kitten siblings, I saw her. A fluffy bundle of dark grey and light gold fur. When I stopped to say hello, she opened her eyes. Deep topaz eyes with a narrow ring of bright green, stunning. Before we got to play with her in a private room, before we'd filled out adoption papers, I knew.



We'd named her before we hit the border to Canada. We had a great time with family over the Thanksgiving holiday, but I know we were both thinking ahead to today, when we could pick Madison up, and take her home.

Easy chairs...

Two hours with Val this morning, talking cats, painting, photography, gardens, family. Nice to have time with my talented sister-in-law... it's been too long. It's our last day on the Point; tomorrow we head for home. This beautiful weather is disappearing... there's dense fog at home, and freezing temperatures. Not a good combination; hope that's resolved before we head out tomorrow.

Leftovers...

French toast and Canadian bacon. A drive to Lynden to deliver paintings to the gallery. Mexican for lunch. Drooling over vintage barns in the valley; need to plot them on a map for photographs. Greek pizza and red wine for dinner, then a bit of television before saying goodnight. I stayed up in a quiet house, sitting by the fire, reading and cuddling the cat.

At the Point

We met the family for breakfast this morning, at one of Tom's favorite cafes on the Point. The rest of the family headed back to the States, but we're staying on a few days, so we can pick up the new kitten on our way home. We admired Val's paintings at the local gallery, then changed to warm clothes for a walk and some geocaching.

It was cold and icy again today, and it felt more like winter than autumn... a beautiful day for exploring. There were eagles everywhere today, and autumn leaves shining in the sun. The bright afternoon light was beautiful on Mount Baker and the North Cascades.

Giving thanks...

For a new cat.
For cold days and bright blue skies.
For a long weekend ahead with DW's brother and sister-in-law.
For the fun of cooking with people who love to cook,



and watching a doctor perform surgery on a 25 lb. turkey.

For lots of good wine and equally good food,
and laughing with my sisters-in-law while doing the dishes.

For Thanksgiving.
For family.

Seven cats...

This is the longest I've ever lived without a cat in my house. From the time I was four years old, when a tiny black and white kitten came to live with our family, there's been at least one cat around.

Just two months after DW and I got married, Taffy came to live with us. He was a barn kitten who was born across the road from my in-laws. A feisty, playful, yellow ball of fluff with blue eyes, he fit completely inside DWs bathrobe pocket. (Somewhere there's a picture of that!) He made the move to the Tri-Cities with us, and 7 years later, moved back to the wet side with us. He loved living on the farm.

Taffy was our first yellow cat, and James was our last. In between came Rumble Patrick, Muffin, Tigger, Annie, and Phoebe. We adopted all of them, or they adopted us. James moved in the summer of my 50th birthday, and moved into the house and our hearts during my birthday party.

Travel and house guests and a long road trip kept us from looking for another feline to share our life.
Today, the search begins.

Pioneer cemeteries

A few years ago, we searched out a geocache that turned out to be in an old cemetery... hidden in the woods, surrounded by a rustic iron fence, nearly overrun by trees. But someone made an effort to keep this place accessible, to make sure those buried there wouldn't be forgotten.

I never forgot that small place, carved out of the woods. And now I seek out those places... spend time reading the stones, thinking about the people who lived in this community, wondering what their lives were like. And I take photos.

Last fall we found a pioneer cemetery in the Horse Heaven Hills, again because of a geocache. It's high in the hills, surrounded by fields of winter wheat, exposed to the constant winds. I can't remember ever driving past this place when we lived here, but it's beautiful up in these hills... high and unprotected and windswept, surrounded by sky. Only a few people are buried here, and the local farmers and ranchers maintain it and care about it.

The location of that cemetery we found all those years ago is lost to me now. But one day, I'll drive the dirt roads along US-2 and search for it again. And I will hope that this small cemetery survived, surrounded by its iron fence, protected forever.

Cold mornings...

Bright fall sunrises that wake me up.

Blue jeans and knee socks and a warm sweater.

Weeds and herbs and grass, dusted with frost.

The first "Dang, where did I put the ice scraper?" 

The unbelievable bliss of heated car seats.

Breakfast with a good friend at a favorite restaurant.

Wrapping my hands around a steaming cup of coffee.

Finding a gorgeous red sweater at my favorite thrift store.

Home to build a fire in the woodstove, and write my journal.

Finished reading "In the Kingdom of Ice" (appropriate, yes?)