The Bright Sadness

The keeper is trying to tell me all about Lent. I was trying to tell her she had a big black blotch on her forehead, but she wouldn't listen. She talked about Alexander Schmeman who called Lent the bright sadness. And I believe that will be the tone of our Lent this year: the keeper and I will observe a bright sadness. The loss of our friend is still on our hearts, and now, the loss of one of her younger parishioners named Kevin. She liked him so much. But he lived a valiant life. She ate less today, but thank God, cats do not practice fasting, almsgiving, and we always pray. She said its all about letting our hearts be healed of false attachments. It's all about becoming free enough to be human. I don't think I will ever be human. But I feel pretty free already. The keeper stayed home and worked all day and I snuck out to the neighbors' yard and snooped and marked. And raced home like a bullet, and almost had an asthma attack on the living room carpet. The neighbors are getting a new roof. Stassi would not have liked the noise. The birds are getting high on holly berry juice. They are very silly. The keeper saw two eagles while she walked yesterday. The were hanging out over the Burke Gilman trail. A good portent.