Sunshine was trying to coax me out of bed. The cat’s complaints were urging me to move faster. “Let me do some things and then I’ll feed you,” I told the cat. He went with me into the bathroom to supervise proceedings. It’s Saturda, April 5, 2025, a day of progressive action in the United States. My wife is jaded about it. “It won’t do much in this area. They’ll give it twenty seconds on the news and then talk for a couple minutes about a new restaurant opening.”

Warm weather for it. 49 F now, thin wedding-veil clouds coyly secret most of the sun’s issue away. But promises have been put forward. Today will be mostly sunny, high in the upper 60s. May even kiss seventy.

“We need to take advantage of this weather,” I say. For those who need a translator, that means I will wash the cars, cut grass, weed, etc. After the warming weather and copious rain, it’s needed. “Supposed to be warm but start raining again tomorrow. Temperatures are going to drop on Monday.” I sound like an expert but I’m just repeating what I read.

My wife replies, “I ordered a new rug for the foyer yesterday.”

I nod. “I know.” We’d measured the space together. The old foyer rug has populated our existence since 1985. It’s served us well. Like us, it’s aged. Its vibrant green and pristine design has faded. Its edges have frayed. Once it was in perfect condition. Chic. Then it was shabby chic. Now it’s just getting shabby.

I relate. I’m grateful that it’s a weekend. Less news comes out on the weekend. But the bridal-veil clouds have thickened. Sunshine has waned.

The cat wants out. I tell him to be safe as I let him into the backyard. Like a child, the orange boy snaps back, “Meow.”

“I know,” I reply, “but I’ve seen you out there. Be careful. Don’t let anything get you.”

He, of course, is very happy with the warm, windless weather. Struting out flying his orange striped cream tail high, he inspires The Neurons with music.

“Stray Cat Strug” by the Stray Cats begins playing in the morning mental music stream. The song stays alive as coffee and breakfast are procured and consumed, etc. I’ve no choice but to post it and chase it from my head.

The cat’s sunshine has faded. He looks forlorn. I know that feeling.

Hope your day works out for you. I’ll do my best and might half succeed. Depends upon how much coffee I drink, I think. And the weather. Cheers