Cat-astrophe

Those of you who know about cats know that many of them cannot resist a closed door. NoNo is one of those cats. No matter how many times she goes in a room and sees that it's empty, she is still convinced that, once the door is closed, Something Very Exciting Is Happening In There. Birds! Tuna steaks! Cold fusion! Anything could be happening in that closed-off room. The room's allure can get her into trouble. And this is exactly what happened on Sunday.

Jim went into our miniature Library of Alexandria/storage room downstairs to get a book. NoNo was asleep upstairs in the back room. Somehow, she sensed the secret room was opening. Now was her chance! She zipped downstairs and slipped in...and her stealthiness was her undoing. Jim didn't know she was there, and closed the door again, and NoNo spent the night in solitary.

Now that she's older, these things don't sit well with her. She gave him an earful when he let her out, and after drinking some water, she started in on him again. Sorry, kitty. Curiosity trapped the cat.

Clo(thes)ure

The (*&$#@ moths got to my camel-hair coat and I should get rid of it. But I LOVE this coat. I know, people and experiences are more important than material things, but .... I LOVE this coat.

It literally came to my rescue: We were in London (pretentiousness alert) on a cold evening, just having rushed through the National Gallery, when I spied a street market. I was catching a cold and felt in need of a warmer coat. And there was a lovely coat, hanging at the front of a rack of coats, in plain sight, practically with me written all over it. The vendor was trying to close, so she accepted my haggling, happy to make one more sale. I was happy every time I wore it. Now it has little chew marks all over it (did I mention the *&^%$ moths?) and I really should get rid of it.

But when I get ready to toss out my coat, I am reminded of the other favorite wardrobe items that went to the Great Beyond, that I still miss. Seriously.

--The alligator-patterned patent-leather shoes. Eventually discarded because the pointy toes were excruciatingly painful for dancing, which is precisely the activity for which I like to wear them.

--The flat slingbacks, embossed to look like ostrich. Eventually discarded because I wore the tips off the pointy toes and also because they were excruciatingly painful.

--The red Liz Claiborne pencil skirt, which was worn to great effect in the early 1990s but which eventually wore out, and would be excruciatingly painful to try to get on now.

Maybe I could just wear my coat at night? Yeah, that'd do it.