Posted by: JDM..... | March 20, 2016

Attila the cat…

and the Big Burnout….

AHHH…..first day of spring, at last.

I don’t mind winter. Never have….but there comes a time when folks around here start looking for snowmelt and robins. Today is the day always mark down on the calendar on the kitchen wall, though I keep a weather eye ’til around the middle of April just in case.

The last few years have been different. Strange. I used to start scouting my favorite fiddlehead patch around the first of June, but for the last five or ten years they’ve come and gone by the end of May. Lilacs, too. Memorial Day used to be lilac time around here, but they’ve been runnin’ three or four weeks early, too. I’m kind of curious about how this spring will flesh out.

The missus and me have a tradition of sweepin’ off the front porch and pullin’ the rocking chairs out of the g’rage on the first day of spring, no matter whether it’s sunshine and tee-shirt time or if there’s still three feet of snow on the ground. No snow this year, but the air is a brisk 45 degrees and the sun is bright. A good day to put in some porch time. Dollars to donuts she’s got a bouquet of spring flowers in the fridge all ready to vase up and set on the little wicker table we use for a catch-all between the rocking chairs every summer. Tomorrow, we’re supposed t’ get nicked by a nor’easter. We’ll see…

Thinking about springtime again, my mind wandered back over the years to the arrivals of other springs in what seems like another life. I’m retired now, and clocks and calendars don’t mean much, leastways not what they did backalong. Years ago, before we sold the place on the river and settled down in what we thought would be a low-maintenance place closer to the city, we had a decent little place with a barn right on the banks of the Monkeedung River down the road a piece. My grandfather used to say “dun the rudd-a-look”, but y’ don’t hear that kind of talk much anymore.

I started one o’ them internet “blogs” there, and the town generated endless stories and tales to build on. I decided this morning to see if I could revive it just for fun. The theme was a mongrel of exaggerated personal experiences, people I’ve known, and a few outright lies, usually narrated by a former fisherman nicknamed “Boodah” by his friends, but it was fun. Many of my stories involved a cat we had for over fifteen years, which is an unusual span for an outdoor cat. I called him “TC”, which kind of came about from me tagging him as “Attila The Cat” backalong. His housemate and co conspirator, “Scud”, marked off seventeen years under the same conditions. I picked out one of my cat stories to reopen Chummin’ into the Wind (click on the link) for a bit. I hope you like it…….

 

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