Summer

Summer began yesterday, June 21st. It was the first day this year that the thermometer found 75 degrees. Spring has left us cold, damp, and up to our ears in skeeters. In fact, I have bites inside my right ear and in other orifices that skeeters shouldn't visit.

The horses stand at full attention each evening for their marinade of fly and skeeter spray generously applied and gratefully accepted. The cats, all of whom are full-grown after celebrating their first birthday on the 15th of this month, eagerly scamper into the barn before dusk to avoid the onslaught of marauding insects seeking warm blooded creatures great and small.

Puff and her sweet little boys triumphed through their first long and bitterly cold winter. Yesterday's nearly 80 degree weather found them lounging in the sun early in the morning, but by mid afternoon all were lying on the cool concrete floor inside the garage. All that is except Uncle Charlie whom I found lying on a pile of freshly shaken throw rugs tossed on a bench just outside the back door. He would occasionally lift his head and look at the kitchen window hoping to catch a glimpse of me passing by. Once the floors were washed I joined him on the bench for a well deserved rest between chores. He curled up on my lap, looked up into my eyes, sighed, then laid his head on my arm and closed his eyes. Of the three kittens, Uncle Charlie is the least likely candidate for a barn cat. He would love to come into the house and live happily ever after on a window sill watching the birds, gophers, and clouds pass by without ever wanting to go outside again. Ernie, on the other hand, doesn't mind a little tummy tickle now and then but would just assume spend all his time hunting mice and baby gophers. At the end of the day when I whistle for them to head into the barn for the night, Ernie is usually the last to arrive. He will take every last minute of daylight insisting that the barn is for sleeping and eating and he's simply not yet tired or hungry. On two occasions, he chose to stay away when called only to find himself locked out for the night. I'm not sure if he spent the night upset or not, but by morning's first light he was eagerly awaiting an opportunity to get inside with his mom and brothers.

Chip, the middle kitten, has a very sunny and happy disposition. I often see him skipping along the road merrily on his way searching for something to chase or stalk. He doesn't venture too far from the barn and is often hiding in plain sight waiting for activity to draw him out. Puff, the mother, spends much of her time napping atop the haystack in the barn. She' s not very friendly, but will walk beside me when I'm out doing chores. If I stop to visit with her she usually lets me pet her but will not tolerate being picked up.

Each night as the kittens arrive in the barn for bedtime, each in turn gets picked up for a hug and a few words of praise and appreciation. I'm not sure if they look forward to the routine, but I sure do. I so appreciate that each has had a day full of freedom and adventure, and I also appreciate that at the end of the day each of the boys along with their mom are tucked in for another safe and cozy night.

Another summer has begun. Another season of cautious conscious living. I look forward with optimism, gratitude, and eternally good humor. And so it is.