Ritual

A simple poem for a simple day…

Wake. Decide to rise.
Contort around cats,
exit bed. Pee. Assemble
morning wardrobe:
T-shirt, jams, special
slippers, topped by
cardigan or flannel
(basement's cold).
Grab phone, glasses,
water. Walk quietly
to kitchen—wife still
sleeps. Begin making
coffee: short cup from
machine or one-cup
drip depending on time.
Feed cats, open side blinds.
Coffee in hand, head
downstairs. Confirm
number of beers, head
into study. Benny eagerly
dancing around my
ankles, awaiting moment
I sit in rose-colored
Queen Anne chair. He
starts his own ritual,
circling in back of the chair,
slinking 'round chair-leg, 
wall, bookcase until once 
again in front, promptly jumps
to footstool, then lap.
Protect myself with two
layers from kneading claws.
Benny settles. Sip coffee.
Reach for daily devotional 
guide: "Give us this day,..."

Hearing my wife rise 
directly above us, Benny
heads upstairs. I finish
contemplating, praying,
follow him up. Greet her,
re-greet Benny, head for
shower to start my day.

Ritual begins unraveling
at that point, threads from
worn fabric of every day
separating into this day's
possibilities. Peculiar how
day's end holds its own
ritual as if transiting into,
away from consciousness
demands ceremony.

73/100
100 poems in 100 days

My yogi

Benny prepares; Charlie leans in

Benny began in July to prepare for August. Perhaps, given our weather in July, he just thought the calendar had turned already? Regardless, the “dog days of August” do not interest this cat. Instead he will withdraw until the temps cool down.

Charlie defies the heat, regards it as Finns do the sauna. He spends hours ‘on the boards’ relaxing with the moist heat penetrating his bones. His version of a cold plunge? Walking indoors for a food break and a quick nap in the A/C-cooled house before resuming the therapeutic 100+ heat indices.

Charlie soaking up the moist heat. Yes, that’s a worry-patch on his right foreleg. July 2025.

Surrendering…

…to the laziness of posting yet more cat photos because I haven’t been able to complete the pieces I’ve written this past week. Sigh. The late spring/early summer weather has Charlie and Benny enjoying the deck or any other place the sleep bug drops them…

Lately, Charlie sleeps with me, and Benny sleeps with my wife. This is because Charlie and I snore. I often sleep with a pillow between my ankles due to bunion and ankle pain. Looks like Charlie has taken a page from my book.

Like many “elderly” folk, my hips and back have bothered me a lot in the past few years. A lousy choice in recliners exacerbates the problem. Charlie thinks orthopedic cushions offer just the support he needs.

Charlie, using a lumbar support for (ahem) “gastric support”. May 2025.

On Easter Monday Benny went under the knife for removal of a neck cyst. It endured benignly until we had it drained earlier this year. He subsequently scratched it, tore it open, and surgery sounded like the best path. He surprisingly took the soft cone in stride, complaining little. Biggest issue? Drinking out of the cat fountain. He napped, waiting the ten days until its removal.