Field Notebook: Home

Have I ever told you about Junior? He was the most magnificent kitty that ever lived.  King of the mouse-ers and Lord of the Lazy, he was everything a kitty-cat ought to be.  His silky gray fur, the softest compromise of short and long, was the perfect companion in the cradle of your arm  for stormy nights when thunder claps above your thin roof.  The picture below is his french incarnate - see here.


When I was a teenager I existed as a flash in and out doors, pausing only to grab toast, or as the great recluse, hibernating in my bedroom turned bunker. Any speedbump or intrusion was as welcome as cholera, unpleasant and potentially fatal. Junior and Snowbaby, his fat and faithful companion, would hole up in my room with me when the outside world proved too much to bear. 

Now Junior is gone and I find myself yearning to be home, not pining to leave.  I suppose this is the normal switch - when we realize our parents were never monsters and a peaceful eve in the grass is better than ten nights on the town.  My brother left for college this year, and the youngest (Connor) and I missed him very much.  Its not until you meet a lot of people that you realize how similar you are to your siblings - well, at least its true in my case. 

I drove the scenic way through Stillwater on my way home and found some lovely nautical striped linen at Rose Mille.  Have I mentioned that place before?... oh yeah! I talk about it all the time .... because its my favorite.  When I got home, we played dominoes and ate ravioli (well, the boys did because I won't touch the stuff).  Hunter cleaned our clocks because he always wins ... always.  He's the one at college now. Snowbaby was still there, missing his buddy, but we snuggled and I told him that it would be ok.