Traveling with a Cat

Monday night I am taking the red eye to Boston for the Thanksgiving. I am taking Hope the Cat along with me. He will have an extended holiday there, being spoiled by my Mom through Christmas. Now, about an hour ago, this whole traveling with a cat scenario started to make me panic. Here's what I picture:

1. He jumps away from me as we go through security and I have to chase him around the airport.
2. He meows all the way from Seattle to Boston and the lady seated next to me bonks his case to make him be quiet.
3. He pees in his case and smells up the entire airplane.
4. He gets another blasted bald spot from the stress.

I love this little tyke and I just want this 10 hours that he has to spend in his cat case to be stress free for both of us. Maybe everything will be ok and we will just settle in and watch our Jetblue TV all the way home.

Sunday Morning at Café Septieme

For the last eleven years, Sunday mornings have meant sitting with a book to read, some eggs, and some coffee for hours on end at the Café Septieme. This particular restaurant has always been popular but not too popular so no one ever minded if I stayed for a couple hours. They would keep coming by to refill my coffee and if it slowed down, the nice waiter that I got to know would stop by and ask me about my book. I love this restaurant. Despite my friends that pick on it because they say the service is a bit snooty and the restaurant just seems a little full of itself. I love it. It has dark red walls and mirrors and they rotate local artists work on their walls. I love it because Capitol Hill was my neighborhood for 10 years and this was my neighborhood restaurant. I am a creature of habit and let’s just say that I have seen my fair share of Sunday mornings looking out on Broadway from Café Septieme.

Ok, so now we have the background. And from my other posts, I think it’s clear that there has been a lot of change over the last year. Last weekend, I was feeling this sense of change swirling around a lot and so I decided to drive up to Capitol Hill and have breakfast at Café Septieme. I brought my book. It was raining outside. A perfect Sunday morning.

I got there and it was packed. My favorite waiter is still there but he was working the smoking section and I can’t stand that (it will finally be going away from Seattle!) so I sat on the other side. I had some new waiter. I ordered my breakfast without opening the menu. I opened my book and waited for my bowl of café au lait to arrive. It was delightful. My breakfast was good. I was managing my coffee consumption so as not to overdue it and I was just starting to relax when this new waiter came over and asked me if I was planning to head out soon. You see all the tables were full and “what if someone comes in and wants one”. I AM SORRY? WHAT IF….. Well, I was very gracious and I paid my bill and just as I was leaving another table emptied out -- so now they had room for two tables of what ifs. When I got in my car and closed the door, my face wet with rain, I felt very quiet and also somewhat content. I guess if everything is changing and it’s time to shake it up, it might as well reach all the way to my favorite neighborhood restaurant.

Sunday night in Seattle

Today. I had a moment that happens every fall. When the rain soaked roads in Seattle smell like they did when I first moved here. Leaves cover everything and it's cold and gray and I am a bit melancholy because the sunshine is gone and time seems to be moving very fast. Some fall memories that crash through my head ....

1994: my first fall here. Upown espresso coffee, Seattle Rep and Roxy
1996: high on the adrenelaine of sold out shows of subUrbia
2000: the end of my time with the theatre company
2001: Hope the Cat comes to live with me
2003: times change forever in my family
2004: I buy my first home. A loft.
2005*: a new job. a new context.

Fall = change in my life... sometimes it's sad and sometimes it's happy. Always change though. Last week my mom put my childhood home up for sale. I can't decide if this is sad or happy yet. It's strange. What will be my "home"? Will it be the final thing that makes Seattle seem like home? Will I think of my mom's new condo (which is not even in Massachusetts -- it's in New Hampshire!) home? Will home just become about the people?

Ah the fall..... so many questions. Always so many questions.

*PS - I cannot even bear to put how the Red Sox screwed up w/Theo Epstein. That is too much to even put in the list. Yes, this particular mistake of my favorite team makes me LIVID.