laramie

Tigger is still hiding up behind the furnace, though he came out yesterday long enough to lap up some canned fish I brought him.
I've been half sympathetic and half annoyed with him for his recent behavior. I've had to remind myself that recent events have been much more traumatic for him than for me. Tagster and Emilie came into my life fairly recently, but they were Tigger's companions since his adolescence. Now they are gone. I've known such losses before; this is new to Tigger, to have his close companions just disappear from his life.
I've lived in a lot of places over my lifetime, and as much as I hate to lose this home where I've spent the last six years, I'm fairly confident of my ability to make a home wherever I land. This is the only home Tigger has known since I rescued him from the alley where he was living as an adolescent. Now it's in turmoil. I was responsible for keeping things secure and steady and I've let down his trust. I'm the only steady thing around, so he clings to me, but I can't be trusted either, so he hides out in the remotest nook of the house. Back and forth between clinging and hiding. I guess I can't blame him, but I wish he'd remember that he's a cat. A cat can land on his feet, and can look out for himself if he must; a cat can make himself comfortable wherever he might be. I've been trying to remind him of this.

It's a dull gray day. I think it's done some raining. I haven't been out except to bring some trash to the dumpster, where the tarmac was wet. But maybe the earth is sweating.

Ray didn't call back about helping with Al's move, so I have to suppose they decided they didn't need the extra hands. Instead I've been puttering around the house, de-cluttering, rearranging things to make better use of the space now that so many of the houseplants are gone. I swept up a huge number of dead leaves from behind the shelves under where the Ferns used to hang. I moved the couch so it sits under the windows now, and moved the television to a position opposite it, under the bookshelves. This opens up the whole length of the living room, making it seem larger than it did before.

I coaxed Tigger out for a while and sat petting him, holding him in my arms. When I set him down, though, he immediately ran back to the basement.

It's hard to believe that it was only yesterday that I attended John and Andrea's wedding. I spent all of yesterday morning running errands, doing laundry and shopping, then showered and dressed to get over to Dream Park by one o'clock. I've got a flowing black and white dress that I wore to complement the tuxedoes Richard and Thorin would be wearing when we sang together. I also found a carved Cinnabar heart that I'd saved from an old necklace dismantled for its beads, and threaded that on a white satin cord. This matched their red brocade vests, and so did my headband adorned with small red satin rosebuds.

We got out to the site of the wedding about an hour before we were due to perform, but the guys still had to change into their tuxes, and have some pictures taken. I had brought something to read, but instead amused myself by tuning up and fiddling around on mandolin, quietly playing some songs to myself. Richard and Thorin joined in before long, and even John, the groom sat in with us for a song or two before he was called away. About half an hour before the ceremony we started to perform in earnest, playing numbers from the song list Richard had prepared. The acoustics of the space were good enough that we could be heard well without any amplification (as dreamshark reported later). We saved our most romantic songs (Mary O'Meara and Roseville Fair, til last, and ended with O No John, as John stood waiting in the archway with the minister.

The ceremony itself was short and impressed me with its message that the true marriage had already been made in the hearts of the couple, and that the ceremony was only an acknowledgment of what already existed in Truth.

This was followed by toasts to the couple, champagne and a buffet. Before I left with Dreamshark for the ride home there was a traditional tossing of the bride's bouquet and garter. I complained that the whole thing had been rigged. The prizes were captured by the bride's cousin and her boyfriend. I was taken aback by how fiercely the young women contended to catch the flowers. I know it's silly of me to have wanted to catch them myself, but at least I didn't think it worthwhile to dive into the melee. Dreamshark pointed out, sensibly, that if one wishes to marry, it's not really necessary to wait on catching a bouquet before going ahead.