Sunday Stuff

The stench of raw unadulterated panic permeated the early morning calm.

No, this isn't the opening line of a new story. It was the way my morning began today. I woke up to only having two cats. Mouse was missing. He was tucked under my chin when I fell asleep but this morning, nowhere to be found. My house isn't that big. I don't sleep with any windows open. The alarm hadn't gone off so no one opened one from outside, providing him with an escape route. He just vanished into thin air.

This was at 4:30 AM. I spent the next 45 minutes searching everywhere, including the basement even though the door was closed when I went to bed and got up. I looked in cabinets. I even checked the refigerator just in case he and Harry worked together to open it. I raced up and down the steps, screaming hysterically, sobbing so hard I couldn't see, with Bixby and Harry trapsing along after me, I'm sure laughing as we went. By the fourth trip to the attic they were bored and decided to wait by their food dishes. They couldn't understand why breakfast was delayed just because Mouse had disappeared.

I was in the attic, tearing out boxes, thinking he'd somehow gotten behind them and had, gulp, decided to crawl back there to die, when I heard this little meow coming from the other corner of the room. I turned around and there was Mouse's head, peeking up over a box I would have bet he couldn't wiggle his way behind. He was wearing his sleepy, confused face, glaring at me like he was annoyed at me for disturbing him. I'm surprised my screaming woke him. Even though it was loud enough to wake the entire block, Mouse is almost totally deaf and generally doesn't hear me at all. I scooped him up, trying not to hug the stuffing out of him, and gave him an extended lecture on why it's not wise to sleep in places where he's not easily found because one, it panics me no end and two, what if he were to have a seizure and I couldn't locate him? Being a cat, he swatted me with his expressive tail and squirmed to be put down and fed. Panic averted. Whew!

That was followed by a mid-morning thunderstorm, the best we've had in years. It started with rumbles of distant thunder that I first mistook for train noises from the small portion of the Reading railroad train yard that remains active. Then the sky got black as night. The wind started. Lightning flashes began in the distance. The sky opened up and it rained so hard I couldn't see the houses 30 yards away on the other side of the parking lot. There was hail so big I was seriously concerned my car would be dented. The power went out just as they were about to award the final yellow jersey for the Tour de France but that's okay. I'll watch the wrap-up show tonight. I, of course, relocated to the porch. I felt like I was in the middle, summoning the tempest. The storm raged for an hour and then as quickly as it began it was over. Mm, there's nothing like a good storm to restore order within me. Fortunately, in this area, they're generally all bluster without causing any significant damage, just downed trees and wires, more of an inconvenience than anything else so I don't have to feel guilty for loving them so much.

I had a weak moment last week and ordered some post-its from Vista Print. Anybody want one? Email me your snail mail addy and I'll send you one with some bookmarks. Please put post-its in the subject line so I don't delete you.

Tour de France Finals
Winner Stage 21, July 27 - Steegmans, Belgium
Overall Winner, Time - Sastre, Spain (Yellow Jersey)

Cadel Evans, 2nd

Winner Points - Freire, Spain (Green Jersey)

Winner King of the Mountain - Kohl, Austria (Red Polka Dot Jersey)

Winner Young Rider - Andy Schleck, Luxemburg (White Jersey)