Bob goes on an adventure...and some other stuff...
“...writing for a living can feel like a cold, dreary, morale-sucking march to the unemployment office.”
Those are actual words from actual article about writing, and journalism, which appeared on the website for the magazine Vanity Fair.
For whatever it’s worth, even after many years of trying to fine tune the craft of writing...even in the midst of a pandemic...even in a sea of uncertainty which surrounds the future of newspapers... this writer does not see himself on a cold, dreary, morale-sucking march...
All right...got that out of the way...let’s move on to some fun stuff...like Bob goes on an adventure...and Thanksgiving dinner...
One night last week, Bob, our rambunctious kitty, decided to go on an adventure...an adventure that lasted all night.
Bob’s adventure began when The Other Half opened our back door. Bob sensed an opening, which seemed appropriate, since there actually was an opening.
Like Santa’s reindeer, Bob flashed through the open door and headed into the dark of a windy, but not-so-cold, November night.
After making good on his escape, Bob made a brief pause in the backyard...and then vanished. The Other Half and yours truly, flashlights in hand, wandered through the dark, looking for our fugitive feline. The search was unsuccessful.
Bob spent a November night in the great outdoors. Early Friday morning, I looked out on the front porch...and guess who was there. Yup. I opened the door. Bob zoomed inside. Got something to eat. Then went to sleep.
Bob’s little adventure got me to wondering about what might go through the mind of a cat. Pondering such things, of course, is silly. Nobody can figure out what goes through the mind of a cat.
That being said, I still couldn’t wonder if, at some point after he escaped into the dark of night, did Bob realize that he might have made a mistake?
After all, Bob’s a house cat. I’m assuming he’s quite content with his state of affairs. He gets to stay inside, where it’s warm on a cold November night. He has plenty to eat. Somebody keeps his litter box clean. He has a fellow cat, or two, to torment when the mood strikes.
So...at some point in the middle of the night, did it go through Bob’s mind that he was outside, in the dark and cold, with no food, or a warm place to sleep? Nah. He’s a cat.
Thanksgiving Day is here...
...and, like lots of other folks, The Other Half and yours truly plan to have a small gathering for the big day. By small, I mean just the two of us. We still plan to have a feast. Instead of a turkey, we will be having a chicken. Hey, they’re both poultry.
I was pondering our holiday menu when thoughts of the critters and fungi you see this week flashed through my simple little mind.
Possum for Thanksgiving dinner? Probably not, even though it probably tastes like chicken. Turtle? Nah. I’ve had turtle soup. Tasted like chicken. Mushrooms? Probably not the kind that are in the pictures. Unless maybe we put some whipping cream on them.
Like I said, we’ll be having chicken...and sweet potatoes...and cranberries...and garden vegetables, including (I hope) some tomatoes.
We picked a whole bunch of green tomatoes right before everything in the garden froze a couple of weeks ago. Wrapped the green tomatoes in newspaper and let them ripen. As of late last week, we were still eating “fresh” tomatoes from the garden.
Well...that’s about it for this week. Here’s hoping that you, your family and everybody you care about stay safe and healthy. Most of all...