Charlie, my kitten-turned-cat, is still all legs and all ears; we shall see if her body catches up with her appendages. I have no doubt I will be blamed in her cat therapy sessions for an identity crisis for my recent mistake in thinking she was male. In reality, she’s a dog-cat, drinking water out of the toilet and my bathtub, a sociable licker, and an eager greeter-at-the-doorer.
Read on for surprising, historical photos from this week.
Here are a few other events of the week:
The friendly telephone man (who I offer a monthly contribution of “tea money” for keeping my phone lines in order), climbed up, barefoot and without a single safety strap, to fix the phone line right outside my front gate. Not long before I snapped this photo, he was sitting on top of the pole. It’s amazing to watch these climbers navigate the high places.
Every once in a while I hire a climber to harvest the coconuts on my three trees in the garden so that they don't fall on human heads, (Remember this story?) Of course the problem with my phone isn’t the line, but perhaps a little bug that died?
And then, out on the Lake, rowing once again at sunrise, the water is peaceful. On the shores are so many important people, particularly one. I wonder if she sees me wearing my red headband, the color that this lake once was during another turbulent time. This week, a book from the library was taken off the shelves and put in safekeeping for its historical significance. I kept it for a few days on my altar, to offer prayers. I am honored by these loose connections, the spider web that joins a visionary and I; these gossamer threads, though thin, are strong. I think of this brave one, and pray that the weight of responsibility will feel lighter, and that she would be granted wisdom during these crucial days.