This blog entry was inspired by Dawn French's one woman show, 30 Million Minutes I once picked up a cat and threw it down an air shaft in rage. Since that time I have made amends by becoming a collector of cats unloved and abused by the former likes of me. My hands have done many a thing, some things not so wonderful but mostly good things. That cat lived with only surprise and shock; no broken bones had it. Once I tried to slap a man and another cat, -a different cat and time,- leapt up and scratched me good. It was so sudden and so obvious what the cat was doing that the man laughed, picked up the cat, praised its heroic efforts and went off with the cat cradled in his arms, like the lover I should have been. I slunk off feeling nothing but shame. I had been shown up by a cat. Nothing is more humiliating. A good lesson learned. My hands are things even cats have opinions about. By the way that cat, Jake, was my cat and not his... When I was in my teens my hands spen...
mostly gentle, sometimes turbulent