The New Adventures of Old Clyde

This morning I staggered into the kitchen to pour a much needed and very large cup of coffee. Clyde, as usual, was at my feet begging loudly. I decided to grab a piece of cheese from the fridge, and rest my coffee on the sink/ counter lip. Oops. Not a good idea. Over goes the cup, and a giant waterfall of coconut coffee cascades to cover both the kitchen floor AND my idiot cat, who then runs through the house like the coffee fairy from hell, sprinkling each room with a lovely spattering of coffee drops. I test the Quicker Picker Upper theory and throw some Bounty on the flood in the kitchen, then go in search of Clyde. (Easy to do- just follow the java trail through my house.) I find him sitting indignantly on my bed (of course), which now also has coffee across the entire king-sized spread. Despite my attempts to sponge him off, his once white hind quarters now have a tan mottling, and a distinct coconut aroma. He's still stalking around the house, complaining loudly, further annoyed by Jade the dog, who has decided Clyde's butt smells like breakfast. I haven't decided whether to piss him off further by trying to bathe him, or to leave him be. Have I mentioned he has a vet appointment today at 3? This will be an interesting visit.

Autumn Leaves

One of my dad's favorite family events of the year was my sister's annual Labor Day Clambake. Some of my last happy memories of him were at  last year's picnic: my dad and his brother Armand talking away as they loaded up on steamers and homemade chowder, and the picture I have of my dad and mom opening the presents of their final wedding anniversary (the only picture I have of my mom where she looks truly happy and in the moment).

Needless to say, as much as everyone was looking forward to our annual get-together this year, I think we all also dreaded it a little. My dad passed away 18 days after last year's picnic. What would it be like without him there?

One of the things I remember about my dad is how he always saved the pop tops from aluminum cans for the Shriner's Hospital in Springfield, which collected them  to raise money. There'd always be a bag or cup of them by the kitchen counter, and he'd remind me to save the tops of my sodas for him.

As I walked through the yard at the picnic today, this was in my path:

Now, I know, someone had been playing with their soda can, and it came off, and it then somehow got knocked off the table, and it landed in the grass, and any other day I wouldn't have even noticed it.

But today, I'd like to think my dad was there at that picnic with us, and that's how he let me know.

Since you went away
The days grow long
And soon I'll hear
Old winter's song
But I miss you most of all
When autumn leaves
Start to fall.  

"Autumn Leaves" adapted to English by Johnny Mercer