But I suppose there is another way, one that I really wish to pursue. That is, writing snippets down during the day, on scraps of paper...prefabricating the pattern upon which the entries shall be crafted. I believe I have a few friends that I regularly read that do this, and it really does make for a stronger whole. Which isn't to say that there isn't room for many spontaneous entries, too.
When I was a terribly shy kid, I actually used to take this approach with phone conversations. Before calling a friend, I would map out what direction I would like the conversation to go. In a way, this is not a bad practice, one that I actually should consider applying to my grown-up life. Actually, it makes more sense now than it did then.
Koko (Coco) is growing stronger. She has graduated from just laying on our bed, curled up in a ball, purring loudly, to moving about, jumping up onto the couch. This morning she was asleep on the kitchen table, sunning herself in the morning light...and, I just bet, staring longingly outside, toward freedom.
As I drive down our dirt road I spot a few distinct discolourations in the matted snow. It's obvious that they're bloodstains, probably where Coco was attacked. The stains are right by our new neighbours at the end of the road, the ones with two Bull Mastiffs. The owners, who I have yet to speak to, even though they've been there for eight months, are said to neglect their dogs. Or at least that's what our neighbor Patrick said at the start of the summer--and he got that from the dog officer in town, he claims. These dogs are usually out 24/7, chained to two square wooden doghouses. Oddly enough, since the attack, no one has seen the animals.
Coco's recovery is encouraging. Cats are resilient creatures.
I'm in one of my obsessive moods right now. This time around it's Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Ah, this moods pass, once my curiosity is sated.