Spring is Springing

It has been a cold winter here in southeastern Pennsylvania. Today, it's supposed to get up into the fifties. Practically balmy.

So I opened my bedroom window for Dax and Kara. They were so pleased that they actually sat together without fighting, something they rarely do. Spring really is coming, I guess.

Apologies for not posting in forever. I've been deeply depressed since my cousin's suicide. She was my best friend my whole life and I'm finding it difficult to move on. I haven't wanted to write for Doux Reviews, either. I'd have hope that spring is coming and things might be better, if only the current administration weren't in the process of actively destroying my country.

Happy Thanksgiving! Feline Detente!

I just bought a new cat tree that fits perfectly under the small window in my room.

My littermate cats Dax and Kara tend to fight and avoid each other, not cuddle, and they spent all last night battling for possession of the new tree. This morning, detente! I never get photos like this any more. Kara is the one on the left.

Happy Thanksgiving!

A Limerick

Last night in bed I wrote a limerick in my head:

(And let's give it some space so it doesn't clump up next to this photo of Kara.)

---

A glorious platform called Twitter
Was bought by a Nazi most bitter
He gave hate a shot
Now X marks the spot
And Twitter has gone down the shitter.

I don't usually write limericks in my head in the middle of the night, so I thought I should share it with you all.

Sorry about the quiet for awhile. My cousin, who was my closest lifelong friend, took her own life in August and left everything to me. I've been dealing with grief and with her estate, a house that her parents bought in 1952.

And I'm learning to hate estate lawyers.

Some of my paintings

I haven't posted in forever. And it's come to my attention (thanks, Heather) that I haven't posted many photos of my paintings. So here you go. It's mostly older ones.

I'm dreaming of a sane 2022

I'm lucky. My household bubble includes Sammie and two mischievous young cats, so I haven't been alone for these past two years. I have a shabby apartment that nonetheless boasts a beautiful view of the mountains and the city. We have enough to eat and can pay the rent.

Hallelujah

I can't believe it's finally over.

An inconsequential window cat photodiary

Dax and Kara, who just turned two years old, are indoor cats, and like pretty much all indoor cats, window sills are their favorite place. While my apartment is mildly shabby, the view makes up for it.

And decrease the surplus population

Donald Trump doesn't care if I die. I can't help but take that personally.

I've been so angry for months now. Trying to figure out what I could possibly post that someone else hasn't already said, and better. Then I realized that that was it. Trump literally does not care if I die. It is my humble opinion that this is a serious flaw in a president.

Yes, I love them now

My kittens have become cats. They're one year old this week. It's way past time that I posted an update.

My outrage won't fit on this blog

I just saw a protest placard that said, "My outrage won't fit on this sign." That touched a chord with me because my outrage won't fit on this blog. I've started writing political diatribes here dozens of times, and each time deleted it unposted. Because what's the point? I don't feel that I have anything new to say that isn't already being said in the Washington Post and the New York Times.