6:04, 8:30, 8/1/2021, 96. These are the numbers defining the day’s parameters. Sunrise in the AM, sunset in the PM, the first day of August, and another high forecast for the upper nineties. Little leery of that last. Said the same yesterday. Next thing I know, I glance at the thermometer and it’s claiming 108. Checked with Alexa. She assured me it was only 101.
Yes, it’s Sunday but things are little changed. Awoke with a cat eyeing me. Purring. Kneading. Drooling. Hungry, I suspected. Or possessed. I tried to pretend I wasn’t awake. He tapped my cheek with a claw. Rubbed against my nose. Hand. Smiled.
Well, I thought it was a smile. Looking into his eyes, I began singing “Space Age Love Song” to him. A Flock of Seagulls. 1982. “I saw your eyes. You made me smile. For a little while I was falling in love.”
The cat — this is Tucker, he of the long and thick black and white fur, large white paws, and helter-skelter curvaceous whiskers — dropped his smile. Frowned. Changed his gaze to, “I’m hungry and you’re singing? What’s wrong with you?” It all worked out. I turned away. He remained patient. Spoke up with a rusty, drawling meow laced with purring trills. Knew I’d crumble.
Here’s the music. Watch the video. Admire the hair. Note the style. Shake your head and tell yourself, “My, how things have changed.” Stay positive, test neg., wear a mask as needed and don’t be stupid or complacent about it, and get the vax if you’ve not done so, if you can. Cheers