Monday

The cats are very restless this morning. It is another gloriously sunny day, and they cannot see why they must be cooped up inside the house. However, we still have little ponds out there, and even the areas that are at sea-level remain squishy wet when you walk across. Nevertheless, I am rather set on letting them go this afternoon, maybe after four o'clock, and I will just count on their almost mystical light-footedness.

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1910

I probably would have followed through on my original intentions and let the cats go, but Lorie chose today to hang out with Pop, and I did not want to have to worry about getting the cats in and out with her in the kitchen, especially when it is not out of the question that she and Pop might socialize until three in the morning. However, I was kind of relieved to feel that my hand was forced to keep the cats inside, because it was against all my better judgment to let them go anyway.

She just left, and I feel some temptation to let the cats go now, but it is dark black out there, and I think they need a good look at the messed up grounds in order to have a decent chance of negotiating their way around all the water traps and the areas of muddy quicksand. Besides, it is going to be another wintry night.

Just one more day, my loves. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.