Maxi or Mini for spring???

Naturally, I prefer maximalism to minimalism, but either, as a “position,” is a cliche.

If it’s going to be minimal, let it be dark and wry.

If it’s going to be maximal, let it be fabulously self-conscious.

As I said long ago, I believe in oscillationism.

Not to be confused with isolationism.

Although there’s that, too.

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I haven’t blogged in ten days, it’s still snowing. I won’t have it, I tell you.

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Poor Dante.

Dante had a haematoma — a big swollen blood blister — on his ear. We took him to the vet to get it operated on. When he came home, anaesthetized, his ear full of brittle stitches, he was so out of it he couldn’t close his jaw, or jump on the bed, or, for some reason, put his head down and close his eyes.

I don’t know how people can actually be parents, given how heartbreaking the suffering of a pet is, and human children seem to fall ill even more than feline ones, it seems.

When Gary and I leave the house Dante has to wear an “E-collar” — I had to explain to the receptionist at the vet that “E” stood for “Elizabethan.” He doesn’t look at all courtly in it — more like a depressed mole. He can’t judge depth or distances in it, and he keeps his poor head down most of the time. It seems he’s getting used to it, but it tears me and Gary up.

The vet scolded us about Dante’s weight (almost 23 lbs! two cats in one!) so we have put both beastlets on a serious diet. I am full of the worst kind of remorse for letting him get that way in the first place. I’m glad I’m not a mother with a supersize gelatinous bubblebunch french-fry gobbling American child.

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Keeping some things to myself. I’m busy. I like music. I like music a lot. I have a lot to do. What do you want? It’s Friday. The cats are sleeping.