July 13, 2009

• Sedges Have Edges, Kittens Are Soft

  The mnemonic verse is supposed to go:

  Sedges have edges,
  Rushes are round,
  Grasses are hollow,
  Right up from the ground.

  It runs through my mind a lot when I’m outside.  I habitually, even compulsively, identify the things growing around me.  The stuff I generally call “swamp grass,” is sedge.  It spreads by stolons underground.  Out in the muskeg it provides perennial green, whether poking up through the water in times of flood or fading to pale near-yellow in dry times.  In my garden, it invades, competes with my strawberries, rhubarb, chives, onions, etc., and makes work for me.

  Along my driveway, between the house and the road, now that there are seed heads waving atop the stems, identification is easy.  In addition to the water-loving sedge that thrives much better in the muskeg and my irrigated garden than it does in the driveway, I counted five different species of grass, and one rush with heads like little bottle brushes.

  

  Sometimes whatever happens to be running thorough my mind becomes muddled with something altogether different.  If you are wondering how soft kittens found their way into the mnemonic verse for grass identification, so am I.  The seven new kittens under my bed probably had something to do with it.  This litter is the first for Colander Piebean, AKA, “Linda.”  She was huge and uncomfortable in the latter weeks of pregnancy, with a belly bulge that more than tripled her usual girth.  She stuck out so far on the sides it looked as if she’d swallowed a football sideways.

  

  Her voice is rather rough and raucous at best.  Her frequent complaints about the heat and internal pressure, along with her bulbousness, earned her the temporary nickname, “Bagpipe.”  I suppose she’s happy with her kittens.  We seldom see her now, and the only time we hear from her is when we mess with the kittens.

  

  Yesterday, Doug got his head stuck under my low-slung bed frame while dragging kittens out for routine handling and socialization.  I had to lift it off him, and that was complicated by the fact that he was taking up nearly all of the space where I needed to stand to do the lifting.  I stepped on him a couple of times while getting into position.  When I gripped the frame to lift, I gripped some of his hair, too.  When he started backing out, he had to stop and wait for me to get my foot off his shirt.

  Needless to say, all came out well in the end.  The kittens were handled and photographed, then returned to their nest at their mother’s insistence.  Now, Doug has them out again, in a squirmy pile on the bed, with Koji sniffing interestedly and wagging his approval, and Linda strongly suggesting that Doug put the kittens away.

  I’ll be back with progress reports, of course.  We have two more pregnant cats, too.  One of them is the one we were taking to the spay clinic about a year and a half ago, when the car broke down and I came down with pneumonia at the same time.  There has not been enough money nor a proper opportunity for any spaying since then.  Fortunately for the kittens, Greyfox is able to find homes for them in Wasilla.

   

  • 9:54 pm
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