A Perfect Home

rodney
Originally uploaded by gimbler

In 1830 it was a snug little collection of modest one and two story frame dwellings whose white-washed exteriors were almost concealed from sight by climbing tangles of of rose vines, honeysuckles, and morning-glories. Each of these pretty homes had a garden in front fenced with white palings and opulently stocked with hollyhocks, marigolds, touch-me-nots, prince's-feathers, and other old fashioned flowers; while on the window-sills of the houses stood wooden boxes containing moss-rose plants and terra-cotta pots in which grew a breed of geranium whose spread of intensely red blossoms accented the prevailing pink tint of the rose-clad house front like an explosion of flame. When there was room on the ledge outside of the posts and boxes for a cat, the cat was there - in sunny weather - stretched at full length, asleep and blissful, with her furry paw curved over her nose. Then that house was complete, and its contentment and peace were made manifest to the world by this symbol, whose testimony is infallible. A home without a cat - and a well-fed, well-petted and properly revered cat - may be a perfect home, perhaps, but how can it prove title? - Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson

The above is one of my favorite passages from one of my favorite writers and I am reminded of it every time I find one of our cats stretched out enjoying the "amenities". Too bad they refuse to be captured on film in these totally relaxed and vulnerable positions. Still... I can feel the evidence of " perfect title" reflected in my own heart wherever I find them lounging.

Please forgive my months of absence from blogging and forgive in advance the flurry of posts I feel coming on. We've been VERY busy and there's much to tell.