Cats, Dreams, Zinnias, And Mick

Do you see that cat there, trying to find shade beneath an eggplant? 
I really do not know what to do with her. I am at my wit's end. She has been so desperate for Glen's and my attention since we got back and that is not a good thing. She doesn't display her affection the way a normal cat would, cuddling up and purring, asking for head scratches and back stroking. No. She bumps faces and walks back and forth either on Glen's lap when he's sitting down or on my body when I'm in bed. She meows and meows, especially in the middle of the night. And that would all be mostly okay but if she wants us to scratch or stroke her, and we don't do it properly or enough, she grabs us with her claws and bites. Alternatively, if she suddenly for no apparent reason gets tired of our attentions, she grabs us with her claws and bites. 
I am so tired of having a bloody arm. 
But what can we do? No. The spray thing isn't going to work. She is indoors and outdoors all day. Perhaps drugs would help her. Anti-depressants or anti-anxiety medication or perhaps CBD gummies. I don't know. I do know that we have been putting up with this abuse for well over a decade and have never once mistreated her or given her cause to be afraid. She has never lacked for food or for shelter or for comfortable places to lounge and sleep. She has things to climb and mice to catch. She has our affection when she hasn't pissed us off so much that we refuse her advances. I know she is an anxious cat. I know she has anger issues and no idea how to deal with them. I know she probably had a terrible kittenhood but there comes a point in any abusive relationship when you can know exactly WHY the abuser abuses but if they still do it, those reasons are no longer an excuse to stick around for it. 
I mean, if she was someone's partner and acted the way she does, I'd advise them to get the hell out of the relationship as quickly as they could. 
"But I know he loves me!" the abused partner might say. 
"That ain't love," I'd answer. 
And with this cat? Same-same. I do think Maurice loves us as much as she is capable of loving but the way she loves is painful. 
Well, as we all know, this is an ongoing situation and apt to go on for as long as she lives. I think she may be around fourteen and has never had a health problem her entire life so I can see her being one of those cats who live to be twenty easily. If only the good die young, she'll live forever.

I did almost nothing today. I'd say that I needed a day like that but really, I didn't. I slept to an ungodly hour. My grandfather is probably judging me from heaven as we speak, glowering at my sloth. In my defense I will say that Maurice was sleeping cuddled right up next to my head and I was sort of afraid to move. In fact, I finally just lifted up the covers to hold her in them like a sling and made my fast get-away. I'd had a dream which was quite interesting before I woke up and I have been thinking about it all day. I won't go into it because that can be rather boring but the emotions I felt in it were deep and genuine. A woman that I loved very much was the main character and although in real life she died several years ago, in my dream she was not dead, but that she and her husband had just split up for awhile and they were working things out. I have almost felt her presence, or at least the memory of her presence as I've gone about my day.

One thing I did do today was to go over to Lily's house to check on her cats and feed them as that family is on vacation at Lauren's parents' house and as some of you may remember, Lauren's parents' house is a sort of kid heaven with many farm animals and a pool and a hot tub and a giant refrigerator with snacks galore. 
I assume the cats were happy to see me as they rushed to me and rubbed up against my legs but they didn't bite or scratch so who knows? I gave them some love and fresh food and water. They desperately wanted out and for a minute I thought I was going to be trapped in the house with them until Lily returned because they rushed the door every time I approached it to try and leave. Finally I found some Temptations (aka cat crack) which I put into their bowls and managed to escape. 

Phew! 

I finally made the custard part of Glen's Father's Day coconut cream pie and filled the pie crust I'd made and frozen back a month ago. Tomorrow I'll make the meringue for it. It's cooling in the refrigerator now. It is too sweet but that won't matter to the man. He texted me a while back to tell me he's safe and on land, which he always does and which I always appreciate. He said they had a better day of fishing than last time. I am glad for that. 

I did a little garden picking, "little" being the operative word. Everything is really coming to an end. Even those beans which seem at some point every summer to be immortal. But I did get enough of them today for a good meal. I swear though, that is the last picking of them I will do. I got a few more cherry tomatoes and one more regular tomato. 

And zinnias.

They, too are flagging and I will be so sorry to see the last of them. 

It is so hot and will only get hotter for a few days. Why do I even bother to tell you this? It's July. It's Florida. We are as wilted as our cucumber plants, as beat down as the tomatoes. 

The river calls my name. 

And I would be grossly remiss if I did not mention Mick Jagger's 82nd birthday, which is today. Every year that goes by and one of the old boys has a birthday, I celebrate. 

When the Stones  did this song on the Ed Sullivan Show back in 1964, they really had no idea how prophetic the message of the song would be.

Bless you, Mick, and the amazing life you've led. And the amazing life you are living. Keep on living it, you rock star, you, you lead singer of the choir of the Church of the Batshit Crazy. We will always dance with you in our dreams.  

Love...Ms. Moon