Like painted kites
Those days and nights went flying by
The World was new
beneath a Blue Umbrella Sky
Blogger would not let me load a full sized photo this morning, so you must click on the offending thumbnail to see this picture. It is my spare bedroom and the blue vintage stuff I have in the corner. Above the bed is an inverted paper umbrella. 20 years ago I found those in a cheezy Las Vegas souvenir shop, of all places, for $1.99 each. I bought one in every color they had, but over the years they have been reduced to just two left. The pink one in my bedroom and this blue one. They are hand-painted and hand-waxed paper, beautifully constructed from little bamboo sticks. The handles have little people on the ends instead of a normal handle. I imagine them being made in some Thailand village by real craftsman. People who've had the art of paper umbrella making passed down for generations. (I know, I know, they probably get one third of one cent for each umbrella by the exploiter varmints who export their goods.) I get pleasure just from walking in there and seeing it slowly turning in the breeze. Hanging off one of the ends of the sticks is this Johnny Mercer lyric. It's a touch of whimsy that nobody ever bothers to notice but me.
I wanted to post a picture of Mackie who has been suspiciously absent from the blog lately, but in the wee hours of the night, I woke up to feel something CHOMPING and I do mean CHOMP-CHOMP-CHOMPING on my foot. In the dim recesses of my sleep-befogged mind, I became aware that it was Mackie just having a little midnight snack, claw-sharpening, and play-session all wrapped into one object of delight: ME! Once I became fully alert he gamboled over to the front door and asked to be let out and that was the last I saw of him today. I certainly hope he doesn't use that ploy as his new 'wake-up' strategy.
He's so weird. I love that cat. The other night, he went down to Eliza's house (the girl who cat-sat him while I went home to Indiana recently) and yowled at her front door until she came to see what he wanted. He then led her upstairs to MY front door where she rang my doorbell. We were both so puzzled, we couldn't figure it out at all. I invited her in of course, and as we sat chatting for a moment, Mackie perched on the floor between us and got that contented cat countenance and a squinty eyed smile on his whiskered face. I guess he just thought it was time for us girls to have a VISIT.