Midnight Mutterings | Wet Christmas

||| MIDNIGHT MUTTERINGS by JACKIE BATES |||

Not sure there’s a song about that. I know there is a White Christmas, a Blue Christmas, but I don’t recall a Wet Christmas song. Wet and Windy, but not too cold.

That’s what we have this year though. And I’m not really complaining as my Christmas, as always, secular, was very nice. And very wet.

If you are here on Orcas Island or nearby, you, too, experienced high winds, rain and more rain. My son and his cat Molly arrived just before the next in a series of storms and we were snug in the house on the beach at Obstruction Pass. The yard and garden flood every day, but when the water recedes with the low tide, the kale and parsley look fine, because they haven’t frozen. Not sure if the garlic, planted in October will survive the wet ground. The power stayed on the whole time with just a couple of flickers for all the days and nights and we didn’t have to use the back ups, which include besides a wood burning stove: candles and solar lights that work really well, running water which is gravity fed so there are no electric pumps involved, and a two burner propane cook stove with a tiny oven. I have a red parka from a ship to Antarctica decades ago, and have never worn since. The solar lights (called Luci, I think) are really great for reading.

I’m experienced with living off the grid after three years living on outer islands, which didn’t help me much when I first came to Orcas 34 years ago. My first few months here were in a tiny cabin up in the woods without electricity, water or phone—no cell phones yet, up a very steep road—a path really. After several months there, I moved into a small house just up the road from where I am now which had all the comforts of civilization: power, lights, heat, running water -cold and hot – an indoor bathroom and a great view, but not on the beach. The only problem was that a couple of weeks after I moved in, there was a huge storm, with trees down all over and no power for two weeks. I did have a wood burning stove I could cook on, but not much wood. Because the well had an electric pump there was no running water. Moreover, downed trees blocked the roads for days. Worse, even though I had all the things I needed for off grid living, I hadn’t moved them from the cabin in the woods. Not only could I not drive up the long, very steep hill to the cabin, the ice meant I couldn’t even walk up the path. The things I needed, the kerosene lamps, propane stove and tank, the candles and flashlights were all out of reach. I didn’t know a soul at Obstruction Pass and I had no water. Even the containers to carry water were all at the little cabin up the icy hill. Finally, I did go knocking on the doors of strangers asking for water and containers to carry it in, and my few, new neighbors were helpful and generous.

This year, most of my neighbors are gone for the winter, but life is still easy with power and water and a wood pile. Sure it’s wet and windy, but not freezing. And we are snug and fed and content. The cats, now two and a half years old, are huge with short memories. They usually live with my son in Bellingham, but have forgotten they are sisters. I brought Rose back with me a couple of weeks ago, and Jay brought Molly just before Christmas. There had been a lot of hissing and swearing and territoriality, but as the days go by, they are becoming more civil.

The situation is repeated up the beach where Jay and I are caring for neighbors’ cats. We walk there on the road as the beach is too covered with big logs and driftwood to walk at high tide.

Their newest cat unwillingly arrived from Texas a couple of months ago when a family member couldn’t care for her. The resident cat didn’t welcome the newcomer and they remain on hissing terms. Further, the new cat doesn’t know me. In the three days since the family left we hadn’t hadn’t seen the second cat at all. We searched the house pretty thoroughly until we were convinced she was outside. The house is large but we thought we had looked everywhere. Our neighbors sent messages that the second cat was definitely inside. So today we again did a thorough search, looking under every bed, in every closet. Finally, when we had almost given up again, I used a light and looked under a cabinet in the third bathroom even though it seemed too low even for a cat, and there she was, flattened in the far corner, terrified. I didn’t try to get her out and I’m not sure I could have without injury to at least one of us. She’s a beautiful faded calico kitty, so frightened. Tomorrow, I’ll offer her some kitty treats, but I’m not sure that will convince her. Her family told me she is partial to one of the three boys in the family. I would love to see the reunion when he returns in a few days. Poor kitty until then.

When we returned home, we found my cat Rose looking out of an upper kitchen cabinet looking perfectly pleased with herself. I really can’t imagine how she got there. She is famous for managing to open doors no other cat could open, and the cabinet was almost empty with the dishes in the dishwasher. But she had to jump at an angle into a small space she couldn’t see from sink drain after she had opened the door by standing on her hind legs and reaching over her head. I took a photo, but don’t have the tech skills to post it here. Maybe I can text it to Lin. We’ll see.

One last thing: one of the readers said some time ago he preferred the people stories. Cat stories, not so much. Ah, well, maybe next time. Hope you are all having lovely holidays with or without cats.

Happy New Year from Jackie, son Jay, Molly and Rose, and Cami and Salty Cat from up the road. And from the sidelines, Eric the Rooster and his four surviving hens, who share home and family with Salty Cat and Cami the New Cat and their very human family.