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Patches has taken it upon herself to become the family alarm clock and trail guide. Now that Abby is no longer home to answer her demanding meows, she has transferred her relentless demands to the rest of us.

It started with her sitting outside my door in the morning and meowing loudly just prior to the alarm sounding. She is starved in the morning (photos do not verify this as she is quite fat).

She does not concern herself with two hour delays of school for icy roads or the weekend change of schedule. She consistently requires my promptness.

Once I leave my room, the parade begins. As she must saunter immediately in front of my feet down the stairs, through the hall, and to her food dish in the kitchen. This parade is accompanied by meows of vocal variance, repeatedly turning around to watch that I don’t change course, and my irritated shushing of her. The shushing has no effect.

Not satisfied with simply bossing me around, this morning she insisted in leading Gabe in a parade down the stairs. Not being fully alert, Gabe slid down a few steps before he caught himself by the handrail. Later, prior to Zeke’s wake up time, Patches jumped on his bed and meowed in his face until he woke up and looked at her. Once her job was completed, she jumped down to wait for the parade.

Even though Josiah is working nights, not days, she is an equal opportunity offender. She will meow at his door periodically just for fun. Unfortunately for her, Josiah ignores alarms – be they electronic or cat.

We had a gloriously beautiful, sunny warm Sunday. It was 68 degrees and I went outside to soak it in. I played Zeke in horse and driveway tennis. (Otherwise known as hit the ball twice back and forth with the racquet, and then chase the ball through the neighbors yard, near the roof gutter, and across the street in the ditch.) Admittedly, some of our games aren’t well thought out. Blaze sat watching us from the backyard whining that he was not included.

Afterwards I wandered around the yard looking for signs of life. The quince has it’s pink buds set, ready to open. I told it to stay asleep. Last year it bloomed on a warm winter day. Then the winter misery returned, and it was promptly iced over. I also saw some daffodil and hyacinth tips pushing through the soil.

I knew better than to actually do any gardening work such as pruning, so I decided I would sit on a lawn chair in the sun and update my garden map. Mom started my garden map 7+ years ago when we walked the yard with Mr. Shaw (the previous owner). Mom marked in all the trees and shrubs, the majority of which are forsythia.

Later, I added flower beds both in the ground and on the paper. Each year, the beds expand in size and number. I marked in individual plants which should be helpful. Unfortunately, I constantly move plants to a better spot which sometimes is not better. Updating the map to reflect these changes when they happen would be efficient.

Staring at bare rose cane and bits of dead plant stalk on a warm day in February and trying to summon their names proved useless. Occasionally, I narrowed things down to three choices. When the plants and roses bloom, I’ll know them for sure, but then I’ll be too busy gardening to update my garden map.

As I sat daydreaming in the backyard, Blaze pushed the map away, dropped a dirty tennis ball in my lap, and tried to eat the pencil. He figured if I was going to be sitting there, I might as well be doing something useful.

I’ve been shivering my way through January dreaming of warmer climates where plants bloom and my teeth don’t chatter. I’m often near the pellet stove, under several blankets, with my hood up, wearing gloves.

My friend, Jeff who sees me each morning while we are waiting in our cars for the bus to arrive to transport our kids to school views me as a type of weather gauge – “How ridiculously bundled will Mugs be this morning?”

I lost all my thick Minnesota winter blood somewhere on the beach in Hawaii and it has never returned.

Patches stays one step ahead of me in the search for the warmest spot in the house. She is usually curled up in a chair near the pellet stove, but this morning the sun came shining into the sunroom after a bitter cold windy night.

Patches took advantage of the moment and plopped down to warm her belly.

During our ice cold getaway to Minnesota, we took a 10 minute escape to the tropics. My brother Mike had recently installed a tropical fish tank in his office. Mike fed the fish, including the puffer fish who was quite determined to get to the food.

For the Manry Clan it was a transport back to the sights of Hawaii’s Hanauma Bay.

Abby needs to hurry and finish her final exams. She has a present under the tree that is waiting faithfully for her return.