I've been talking to the cats a lot lately. Nothing wrong with that, is there? I mean, I'm OK, right? And the dogs. I talk to them regularly, too. More than usual. Quite a lot, in fact. This has been happening for a full week now, ever since the ...
I've been talking to the cats a lot lately.
Nothing wrong with that, is there? I mean, I'm OK, right?
And the dogs.
I talk to them regularly, too. More than usual. Quite a lot, in fact.
This has been happening for a full week now, ever since the bipeds that I share my home with hopped on a bus for Montana. My wife. My son. Off to find snow and to cross-country ski for a week with the high school ski team.
That leaves just Freckles and Max -- the cats --and Banjo and Lucy, the yellow Labs. And me.
So, we've been talking a lot, the five of us.
This isn't the usual routine at our house. Usually, I'm the one flitting off to various points of the compass. I'm the one laying out clothes and gear for the trip. I'm the one stuffing packs the night before departure. But this time, it was the two of them.
It was kind of fun, sitting back, watching them gear up. I was merely a technical adviser and equipment marshal.
"Can I use this duffel bag?" one of them would ask.
"Do you have any double-A batteries?"
"Where's the other headlamp?"
"Could you possibly wax my skis?"
I gladly accepted my role as quartermaster and wax technician. I didn't mind. I had time. It was nice to be able to support them.
I almost went on this trip, but the timing didn't quite work out. And now I found myself secretly thrilled to be staying home. Sure, I would miss both of them. But I was already enjoying the relative calm of not packing to leave.I watched my loved ones scurrying around like squirrels before a storm. Is that what I look like when I'm preparing for a trip?
As soon as my wife and son were on the bus, I began making lists of things Iwanted to do. Oh, I had lofty goals. Write a little. Re-organize the ski-waxing zone of the basement. Get in a couple of long runs with the young dog. Hook up the humidifier.
As any of the animals can tell you from our conversations, it is going well. I have felt lusciously indulgent doing exactly what I want all the time. Have another piece of pumpkin pie? Believe I will. Walk the dogs? No, not yet. Take a nap? Sure.
Writing? Well, I'm happy to report progress in that area. Humidifier? Installed the new filter and fired her up. Basement re-organization? I would have started, but that's when I needed the nap.
It's a good life.
I am not, however, a recluse. I eagerly check e-mails to keep up with my daughter in France. I get calls from West Yellowstone, Mont., with almost daily ski reports. I do have a job where I'm expected to show up occasionally.
Now, if you'll excuse me, Max the cat has just come in from prowling, and I need to check in with him.
"How was it out there, Maxie? Pretty warm for November, eh? Yeah, pretty warm. They say it's going to get cooler by the weekend. Did you hear that, Max? Yep, cooler by the weekend. That's OK with me. Doesn't really feel like November unless it's cold, right, ol' buddy?"
Yep. I'm doing fine.
SAM COOK can be reached at (218) 723-5332 or firstname.lastname@example.org . To read previous columns, go to duluthnewstribune.com.