Drivin' Along In My Automobile (My Baby Beside Me At The Wheel)

After two days of willy-nilly runs to and fro, settling paperwork in Oakville, Mississauga and Brampton, we finally have our new car. What is most amazing, in retrospect, is how swift and easy it occured - as though moved by the hand of Providence. Viv and I visited the dealership on Tuesday, deliberated on Wednesday, bid on Thursday, and drove away Friday night, everything resolved in slightly over half a week. Yet I never felt like we moved haphazardly, as though consumed with the kind of Doppler effect our minds experience after a series of exuberant snap decisions. Instead it was exhilarating, since it was our first car purchased together.

Today I discovered an extra, delightful thing while perusing the new Library of America catalogue: novelist Charles Brockden Brown.

Plus I hope our cat, Cleta isn't commiting a spree of masochistic Christmas-themed murders because she's killed two turtledoves. There are no pear-trees, nor partridges in the area, fortunately.

ADDENDUM: The game is on. Our second eldest cat, Smokey, it seems, is coveting position of top bird-killer in the house. Recently, I caught her in the back yard about to tear apart her prize, a sparrow. I always thought senior cats lost their feline instinct for killing creatures in their golden years, but I guessed wrong. Some old felines never stop. They're just waiting for the right opportunity to give the younger generation their comeuppances.