On a night quite unenchanting, when the rain was downward slanting

It’s the evening of the last day of March and as I type, I’m in my favorite seat in the living room, wrapped in a wool sweater, with a blanket on my lap as I type with my chilly fingers as the rain pellets the windows.

This is not a complaint. I’m merely stating that baby, it’s cold out there. But it’s the last day of March, so it’s not like this is a big surprise.

Thank you for all the commiserating and sharing of your personal cat stories after yesterday’s post. I don’t feel so alone anymore ~ and although I know they’re a world apart from dogs, it’s still fun to share.

Elizabeth sent me a funny YouTube video that I’d never seen before called Simon’s Cats and I’ve added one at the bottom of this post.

And Hilary sent me these wonderful poems, from Henry Beard’s Poetry For Cats:

Hamlet’s Cat’s Soliloquy

The End of the Raven, by Edgar Allen Poe’s Cat

Love these, Hilary! (Please do click on her link to see some beautiful photography today).




My husband took these photos about a week ago while I was at work. It had begun to snow.




But it didn’t last long.




The birds were well fed, and the squirrels were behaving themselves. Either that, or they were in someone else’s yard, creating havoc.

I think I like this bird (below) a lot, especially after viewing all of Simon’s videos. If I owned Simon's cat, I’d need a big pillow. And it wouldn’t be to throw it at him.

* gasp *

Evil me.

SNOW BUSINESS

Uh-oh. Better get a move on. The Singing Survivor Show is about to begin.

Have a beautiful weekend, all. As always, thank you for your visits, your kind words, and for your support. You guys rock.

Luv ya,