Winter

Endless snowstorms have kept Anne working at home numerous times these past couple of weeks, so Iggy's absence hasn't been as pronounced as it might have been. But I have  been home alone all day for most of the time since he died. For most of his life the most agreeable being you would ever meet, Iggy wasn't very good company after he went deaf and became frail and demented. I don't miss the past year's whining and complaining or occasional litterbox lapses. I like being able to sleep through the nights and take occasional catnaps and to take a phone call on speaker without caterwauling in the background.
 
I do, however, miss Iggy. The house feels profoundly quiet and empty sometimes. When my eye goes to his favorite place on the table by the window over the radiator, where there is a small bouquet of flowers and a pine box full of ashes where my little friend used to be, I feel lonely and sad. I like solitude and I don't think it's driving me mad...but would I know if it were? I interact with other humans as seldom as possible anyway. 

This is the first time in 40 years that I haven't had a feline companion. I really don't want another cat -- I enjoy the $10 cut to our weekly grocery bill and not having to deal with a litter box. I'll soon be 58 years old. If the next cat lives 16 years I'll be coping with its death when I'm 74. I don't relish the burdens of a failing pet when I'm in my 70s, never mind the grief of losing it. I like being free of responsibility in the meantime -- able to travel freely, for example, or rent winter housing in some warm clime without worrying about a pet. Not that I actually do either of those things. But I could.

OTOH, of course, there's 10 or 15 good years of companionship and enjoyment that a kitten would bring, and there's a very good chance that it would outlive me anyway. Anne lobbies relentlessly for getting not just one, but two more cats. She'll probably get her way in the end even though I'm the primary caretaker. But the longer I go without one, the less I want one. 

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The snow has literally never been this deep, even during the record 107.6" we got in 1995-96 (yes, I shoveled that, too, and I didn't have a snowblower back then). This year brought no measurable snowfall until the last week in January -- and then, Wham! 70" in two weeks. Usually one enjoys pauses between storms that allow at least a little melting. Not this year; it's all still out there. There is no thaw in the immediate forecast. There is, however, another blizzard coming tomorrow night. Quite simply, this is the worst winter in Boston's history.

Sunday is ordinarily my grocery day. This Sunday we'll most likely be housebound. All of the yahoos will mob the stores and strip the shelves tomorrow; I don't want anything to do with that. Monday is a holiday and there are early rumblings about another storm coming on Tuesday, so Monday's likely to be just as frenzied as Saturday but with worse selection, since choked roads are already delaying deliveries. Tuesday we might be housebound again, and I don't have enough food to last until Wednesday. Therefore I'm going to do the marketing in a couple of hours. Shopping on a Friday is unprecedented, but I'm glad Curio City gives me that flexibility. 

This week's picture is of Anne's car in our driveway, btw.