Swimming

We recently returned from a week's holidays at a cottage. Had a lovely time- lots of do nothing stuff and a completely different change of pace. I would get up around 8:00 as opposed to 6:00, read and read and read, eat a fair bit, and the evenings consisted of a good family game and a movie. I also did a lot of swimming, something you can only do for a few short months of the year in Canada.
I've decided I love to swim in the northern lakes, cossetted by trees and rocks rather than the great lakes, an endless expanse of water. I love the silky feel of the water up north. It seems to gently wrap around you and is not that interested in bashing you with mountainous waves and white caps.
It usually takes me a while to get into the water. At the Sand Banks in the County you just keep on walking and slowly, the water creeps up a little higher and I waste more time just trying to acclimatize. But up north there is no choice. There's no walking in - you just jump off the dock and away you go. It's a quick, surprising, refreshing, awakening moment and then I'm there, ready to dog paddle away!
I flip over on my back and take the stance of Jesus on the cross - arms out to the side, feet together. And I just float away, looking up at the clouds watching them scuttle past. There is that somewhat uncomfortable popping feeling in my ears as the water seeps through and then - nothing. I'm weightless with only the sound of my breathing, the water holding me up and blue sky and clouds above. I check out the tree tops waving away and though I can't hear it I know the wind is rustling the leaves.
Then, after a few good laps to work off that extra snack, I climb out onto the warm rocks and wrap up in a towel.
These are the times that make up for cold, cold winters, ice and snow and endless night.

Poor Puttytat

I have a bored cat on my hands. I feel terrible about it but I'm not sure what to do about it...

Frodo is mopy, losing hair like crazy and giving me a number of signals.

One that says I'm bored

One that says I'm ticked off

One that says I'm hopeful you will let me out!

Frodo was born outside from a feral mother. Friends of ours allowed the mom to have her babies under their porch and we watched these little ones nose about and grow. I knew which one I wanted to take home and when the day came to get Frodo we discovered momma cat had hidden them into crevaces of an old rock pile! We literally had to pull him out from the ground!

So Frodo is an outside cat - he lives for the outdoors and to chase birds and mice. He loves to roll on the warm pavement and snooze under the bushes.

But sadly, Frodo has received a life sentence. It seems the neighbours do not appreciate Frodo using their rose garden for outside purposes and after a number of complaints it is clear Frodo will have to stay inside. We tried a leash, a good one too, that I was hopeful he would get used to and we could then tie him up for some outside roaming time but he was out of that in a matter of minutes. Our next option is a cage....a sorry option indeed.

Basically he sits inside now and mopes about with those sad, bored, hopeful eyes watching me.

I'm open to suggestions.....his age works both for and against him. As he is now 10 he is slowing down a little and does not mind sleeping more than playing. On the other hand, trying to switch a 10 years old cat from always going outside to not is like trying to teach an old dog new tricks.

In the meantime, on occasion, Frodo does sneak outside at times. Early in the morning, when I'm walking Amelia, Frodo has learned if he is quick he can zip out the door when I'm busy trying to keep hold of Ami. I don't blame him - who could?