They beat me to it! 
Summer is winding down as we begin the slow march to autumn. And the sun, the glorious sun, is stealthily leading the way. Though no less intense in heat or radiance than one month ago, the brightest star to planet earth foreshadows the impending winter darkness by slowly robbing of us of daylight minutes. Rising later and setting earlier, the fickle sun is visible 72 minutes less than on the longest day of the year. On June 21, sunrise was 5:16 a.m. On August 11, it was 5:55 a.m. On June 21, sunset was 8:29 p.m. On August 11, it was 7:56 p.m.
That may be a good thing when you’re hoping for a little more shuteye in the morning or waiting for fireworks to light the night sky. Not such a good thing when the shorter days signal waning gardens, cooler evenings and back to school.
Back to School! Counting the days until we drop Katie off at NAU is like than counting the minutes lost each day. Both are as inevitable as falling autumn leaves and football games, sweatshirts and gloves. Meanwhile back at the farm, summer is in full bloom with fresh green corn and Queen Anne’s lace, verdant hills and flowers bursting forth in vibrant patches of color.
And in the midst of it all is my first ever crop of pumpkins, a cheerful sign that autumn days are on their way.
We have a quizzical kitty. He didn’t start out that way with his head half cocked like he’s waiting for an answer to a very important question.
It happened sometime on a Saturday night when we were out to dinner. Ozzie was fine when we left, but when we returned, he couldn’t walk well. His left hind leg collapsed under him like it was shattered. It wasn’t. He stumbled to the couch. We thought it was an equilibrium problem, maybe an ear infection. But his eyes were off center, showing too much white for our comfort.
The vet predicted a stroke or brain bleed, but said the only way to verify that is with a CT scan. He gave Ozzie a cortisone shot and said he would have the best long-term prognosis with rapid improvement.
Suddenly, our feisty kitten felt fragile and looked sad. He lost his hearty appetite, walked in circles, and veered to the left, losing his balance and falling over.
Then just as unexpectedly, his eyes were back in their normal position, he was cruising up and down the stairs and walking pretty well with just a few sudden falls that are lessening with time.
The tree climbing Ozzie is gone. So is the kitty that loved rolling balls on the hardwood and leaping in the air at ribbons, lighting bugs, feather toys. He stills loves to be outside, but we watch him closer knowing he may not be able to run fast enough or protect himself from other cats.
Today, a week later, Ozzie reverted to one of his old tricks and attacked my hand. Instead of chastising him, I cheered. Now, If he would only attack some balls.
