Raining insomnia


It’s 3 in the morning.  I’m not just awake…I’m very, very awake.  

There’s something about pouring rain and a missing cat that doesn’t allow a person to sleep.  

Other Brother Coon Cat isn’t technically “missing,”  he likes to prowl the countryside at night.  

There’s an easy way to find a kitty that won’t come when called:  Open a can of cat food.  OBCC ran into the house with a meow that could peel paint off a wall, effectively conveying how deeply unhappy he felt about his level of wetness.

Once the brothers were busy eating, I fired up the computer and checked my email. OMG!  My sister actually posted something on Facebook?

By the time that shock subsided, I scrolled down through the pictures of people I don’t know, and a warehouse load of memes, to find that baby car seats were being used to make women stop on lonely roads so gangs could attack them, and a new breed of spider carrying the Zika virus is now inhabiting restaurant toilet seats.

In the meantime, OBCC climbed into a stack of clean clothes to dry off.  Not that I like having to do laundry over again, but his brother (the one that inherited the brains) has morphed into the worlds cutest coon cat.   He’s on my lap, his tiny little feet are tucked into his chest, and he’s sleeping on his back.  

There’s nothing like a lap full of purry furry to bring down the stress levels.

Oh…wait!  There’s a tornado watch?