This thing called Autumn

Dear Human Blog Readers,
Here I am again, back to tattle a tale, and basically to let you know how the nincompoop heatings is back in working condition! As promised, it took the humans three days, to get the ball rolling. Some took cold baths, others none, and the more creative ones had buckets or tubs.

Lolita: Recycled Bear ©FrogDiva Photography

Mom is still sick, and going through a rough patch at the moment, so we are all rallying around her to provide whatever comfort we can. I suppose she will write about it herself in her own space. My job today is to type about this odd season called Autumn. Now remember, I grew up in tropical countries, so seasons to me mean wet or dry, but all of them hot. Two years after living in Berlin, I have understood nothing about changing seasons, other than the fact that it is colder for longer periods than it is warm.

All the leaves on the trees are falling off. They are not that different from humans, with bad colds, although trees apparently sneeze acorns and chestnuts too! Today is the first time in almost a week that the sun has come out. Otherwise it has been cold and dreary, not to mention wet and windy. Oh, and sunrise is at 07:20 these days, go figure! Thank goodness Mom likes to make the house cosy with so many candles and soothing music!

Cherry tried her luck on the balcony a few times but ended up screaming bloody murder to come back in again. She is infinitely more stubborn than me, and will try again after five minutes, howling incessantly to be let out, only to discover that the wind has not died down then, and not the ten times after that!

Lolita, on the other hand, is the one among us who never goes out. Not that she is too old to do so but she prefers to curl up on the bed or sofa and snooze. I think she was a bear in a previous life because she loves fish, doesn’t socialise much, is grumpy when woken up, and sleeps throughout the winter. She is probably smaller than a bear’s paw, but she certainly acts like one, especially when she roars for food to be served up. Here’s the thing, even though she sleeps so many hours of the day, Lolita still manages to get into more trouble than Cherry and yours truly. This is the one cat who should never be allowed near a candle. Last year she set herself on fire at least twice, and this morning during breakfast she swished her tail over the candle on her way down from the table. The dingbat didn’t even smell that that her fur was on fire!

Meowingly yours,
Champagne

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