Friday, January 21, 2011


They are gone.  SHE Who Opens Cans and HE Who Sleeps in the Big Soft chair 
went away Wednesday and haven’t come back.

 When I saw this photo on SHE’s computer 
and I heard them mention words like, “passport,” and, “beach,” 
I knew something was up.  
They’ve been grumbling about the long winter.  But who hasn’t.

 When they started packing I tried to stow away in a suitcase.  
I was hoping I’d match the color of their luggage and they wouldn’t notice.

 But, alas, I was discovered.

 Don’t leave me here alone in this frozen purgatory with Fuzzy Legs!  
He’s so slow to open cans and sleeps with his door closed 
so I can’t stomp him into getting early breakfast, 
and second breakfast, and elevensies.

 If Fuzzy Legs forgets to empty my litter box 
I’m going to leave a log on the carpet 
where he will step in it on the way to his bathroom.


Tuesday, January 18, 2011


The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
     Hath had elsewhere its setting,
          And cometh from afar:
     Not in entire forgetfulness,
     And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
     From God, who is our home.
William Wordsworth

 B.C.C. February 14, 1953- January 19, 2010
watercolor 13x20 inches on Arches 140 cold press

Oh heart, if one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body, 
answer that the flower withers, but the seed remains. 
Kahlil Gibran

Sunday, January 16, 2011


I know it's old news, but we're still up to our rumps in snow.

The bull of the place (my DH) is feeling much, much better.
Thanks for your kind concern.

photos of the elk herd wintering in Jackson Hole, Wyoming