Perigee Lunaticatle

God Morning cats and kittens, today is a day to be filled with digging out research for a paper on creativity, a paper that is worth my ticket to graduation.  One twiddle in the brain concerned wanting to be a research librarian for I thoroughly enjoy finding evidence; however, the further I got away from kids made me realize I missed them.  Being in the college library, then, is a bit of a treat.  Long ago my other intriguing desire was to be a medical illustrator, but there were no nearby courses available and personal family needs called.  I could have done it, for innards fascinate me like an alien world, only contained inside a neat, epidermal wrapper of skin.

The weather promises to be sunny and pleasant, a gracious welcome back to a warmer season which, in this burg, means a temperature high of 36 degrees.  Tomorrow is predicted to lose it's head at a longed-for 45.  Skies will be clear for the event tonight, happening at 7:49 post meridian when the full moon rises in perigee.  Well, the moon has a perigee every month, a point when it is close to earth; what's special about this one is that it is so near you can taste the green cheese.  Have crackers and wine and a thou ready.

Yesterday I traveled down the long strip of Elmwood Avenue from north to south, stopping at Towne for a fish fry (Greek salad, pita, Greek potatoes and a lovely breaded fish).  The people were out along the sidewalks from the edge of the Strip at Forest Avenue to one of it's perceived borders at Summer Street.  Particularly between Forest and West Ferry, you could see their heads lifted, chins tilted to receive the breeze that told of yes, it's back, spring, spring, spring.  They were happy, busy, and noisy in conversational clusters outside of the many shops and bistros that line Elmwood Village.  At North Street, I saw a long-missed but familiar person, the White Lady, who slowly wends her way to destinations known only to herself, which is at it should be.  She is one of our guardian angels, lord knows how we look for her presence.

I have to run off and do work.  Tonight, the full moon will be looking down on many a St. Joseph's table in the city, meatless and holy in the tradition of bringing people closer to each other.  I will hope to look upwards to see this moon, and also to look across at the human faces circled around a white tablecloth.