Spring Eternal

Well, hope may spring eternal in the human heart, but spring sure as hell ain’t springing eternal anywhere around here at the moment. The tantalizing taunt of spring we had earlier this week (seventy degrees on Monday – 21 degree, to those of you who are Fahrenheit impaired) gave way this morning to just above freezing with snow squalls thick enough to seriously impair visibility while driving. Because the world revolves around me, I’m taking this nosedive in ambient conditions personally. Mother Nature has been crossed off my Christmas list.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We have a fourteen-year-old brown mackerel tabby at the shelter right now. She’s a year older than Clueless was, and there the poor thing is in a cage on display in a pet store. She’s a sweet cat, but she’s scared and shy and doesn’t “show” well. I don’t know what her history is, that she’s ended up in a shelter during what should be her lazy senior years, and I get a lump in my throat when I see her lying on her blanket in the back of her cage while all the youngsters around her press up against the bars demanding attention while trying to snag your sleeve on the way by. When the time comes for another cat it will be up to Math Man to decide whom we adopt. I know he wants another altered male cat with Clueless’s slightly ditsy disposition and a different coat color than the rest of our herd. This little brown tabby fits none of the requirements. Right now I guess I can only trust that fate will match her up with the right home quickly, giving her the chance windows full of sunshine to bask in and laps to lounge on when the sun goes down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Offering no excuses, I simply note here that it has yet again become time for me to diet. I have let myself go in a rather spectacular way this time, and Dr. Liver let me know it in no uncertain terms. I managed to make him chuckle when I murmured some nonsense regarding cognitive dissonance, but it didn’t get me off the hook with him. So yes, I am yet again dieting. And no, I am not doing South Beach this time (nor did Dr. Liver recommend it this time). I have proved I am incapable of keeping weight off on my own, so I am biting the bullet and doing group therapy. Last week I signed up for Weight Watchers. Tonight I get to weigh in and then sit through another motivational meeting. After a few weeks I might record more about it, but I want to give it a fair shake before I start in on how pathetic I’ve become. At least Weight Watchers provides a nice forum for potential public humiliation if I fail to adhere to good eating habits. Apparently I need that kind of motivation.