In fact, early this morning I saw the first dying cicada of the season. That is a certain harbinger of winter. Portia found the cicada hopping about in the garage, unable to fly any distance. She might have eaten it had she not decided to come into the house, probably in expectation of getting something tastier. If she was disappointed by the bowl of half and half I then gave her, she'll soon enough have many more opportunities to catch and eat dying cicadas. The first really cold nights will slaughter them by the thousands, though usually only a handful of these decide to come and die in my yard. If the cats eat them, so much the better. Then I won't have to deal with the unpleasant task of disposing of their carcasses myself.
This week went by quickly. There's only one more normal day before I have to go shopping again. Maybe it's just me, but the grocery stores around here seem to get more crowded every week. Maybe fewer people can afford to drive down the mountain to Chico to do their shopping. Maybe I should start eating cicadas.
