Sweets from the Sweet

Tasha temporarily dropping her latest flower into the bowl of food left for the strays.

I realize both that I haven't blogged much, and that most of my entries have been about cats. The first realization keeps my from blogging more, because after long silence, anything I say had better be interesting. The second realization doesn't help, because I'm blogging again about cats. But for goodness' sake, what do you expect from "cattus dommus"?

Tasha is a sweet cat, with a nice personality. What does that mean, exactly? Well, she doesn't bite, except when provoked. She likes an occasional cuddle, but not too much. She likes to be around people. And she brings things home.

Generally, she brings leaves. She carries them up to the window in her mouth -- if it's the cat-door window, it's a 50-50 chance that she'll bring it in, so I find leaves on the chest of drawers (the landing point for entry through the cat-door) or on the floor of my room. Outside the other window, the one I have to open for her, which requires a meow to get my attention, is a large pile of leaves.

You can track the seasons from her gifts -- in fall, the soft yellow ginkgo leaves from the front of the church next door. In winter, dried brown oak and birch leaves from the backyard. Earlier this spring, it became the three-petaled passion flower leaves that grow on our back trellis.

And now, this week, it's become camellias. The camellias bloom splendidly all over Portland in March and early April, bright pink and white polka dots on glossy dark green foliage, reminding me every year of the Queen's Garden in Alice in Wonderland. By now, they are overbloom, falling off the bushes for Tasha to pick up. They vary from 3 to 6 inches across, are multi-petalled, and vivid pink fading into light brown. Moist. Stepping on them with bare feet in the middle of the night while stumbling across the room to let in or out a cat feels like stepping on a boneless mouse. (She brought a bone-full mouse in two weeks ago. I didn't step on it, thank god.) Yesterday she was busy, and left about four, in a trail from window, bureau, doorway and hallway outside my room.
.