I’ve recorded an audio version of this piece here, in case you’d prefer to read it that way: They say it was Isaac Newton who invented the catflap. What I like particularly about this fact, if it’s true, or even if it isn’t, is it gives the image of the famous physicist trying to lay the foundations of classical mechanics but getting distracted by having to let a cat out then in again 40 seconds later and thinking, “For f***’’s sake, I really need to sort this.” But had nobody
Well I just love all of this (except cats going outside, but let's not argue), especially your word choices and in general your thought patterns and how you don't cut them off at the knees but unleash them to stride right left and center (and up and down) for our reading pleasure. Thank you.
Loved this Tom, your writing about buildings and time and how everything is linked up with human experiences, including your own in those spaces is so well crafted as to seem effortless. Now I must find out where I can see Grey Gardens. Thanks for including the audio it’s good to hear how you phrase the writing but it’s also an ancient desire to experience the sociable practice of hearing a tale well told.
The weight of what we can contemplate when looking at old buildings is sometimes too much. You make it seem easy to communicate it in this piece, but for me I haven’t figured out how to do it yet, how to describe the chaotic bubble diagram of thoughts that race through my head when I consider what an old building has witnessed and hosted and been subject to. Thanks for sharing as always Tom.
Such a great read, thanks. But now I am strangely obsessing about those rats. "We just feel more than six feet from our local rats because they’re very emotionally distant." I am wondering if this is rats in general? if not then what has traumatised your local rats? I wonder if they are more enlightened than other rats and therefore detaching themselves from humans in order not to be hurt by witnessing human decline. This sentence will haunt and tease me!!!
Gray Gardens is one of my favorites. It's so layered. You have a portrait of where they are now, which is shocking, but you can imagine what they must've had by their conversation, and all they have lost, their wealth, lost family, lost fame. It's fascinating and humorous and sad. One of the best documentaries, in my opinion, ever, because it shows so poignantly the complexity of life, which is a slow progression of loss. Plus they're just fascinating people. The documentary Crumb is similar. Just a portrait of a broken humanity. This is a great post. I love the unique structure! A series of thoughts about different things, almost like we're privy to your mind as you're walking through the woods. And the writing is phenomenal, so thank you for this!
I really enjoyed listening to your audio version! Your voice comes through in your writing but it's still fun to hear you speak it. As always, a pleasure to read/listen and smile often doing so.
I grew uo with cats in Montreal, and we did not have a catflap or cat-door. We had cats that would spend most of the day outdoors, come in before dark, eat a great deal and then sleep most of the night. Yes, they were strange cats, since they did not do the usual nocturnal activities that cats do, like walking on your head while you are sleeping, knocking items off your dresser and meowing to be let out.
Later on, as a young adult, I lived in a low-rise apartment building. I did not let the cat ever go outside, because I did not want it to pick up any feline diseases. Maybe it was wrong of me, but I thought then I was protecting him and increasing his chances of a long life.
This cat, named Precious, a grey Persian, did all the things a nocturnal cat did. We eventually came to a gentleman's agreement. Precious could awaken me at 3 am, whereby I would feed him. Then 10 minutes later he would hop into my bed. I often woke up with him on my head.
I really enjoyed this and as others have said, I will read it a few more times. I had a tabby cat called Florence who refused to use the cat flap unless I held it open for her. I could never work out why.
For some reason I usually prefer to read an article or a story rather than listen to it, but you made listening to this an absolute aural pleasure. You have a true gift for the pen and the voice.
Very much enjoyed listening to this. A lot resonated, from the having to get up at least twice a night to let the ruler of our house in and out our bedroom window (we have never thought to put a cat flat in our wee cottage), to the exploration of old buildings to the passage of time. In respect of buildings it made me recall a derelict croft we explored up the Angus Glens last year. There was still a mirror on the wall, wall paper peeling off the walls and a still not fully fledged bird of prey perched on the windowsill. For a short while we stepped back in time, imagining the lived lived there and marvelling in the new life there now.
"I find myself less afraid of entropy" really resonates with my own feelings about advancing age!
Well I just love all of this (except cats going outside, but let's not argue), especially your word choices and in general your thought patterns and how you don't cut them off at the knees but unleash them to stride right left and center (and up and down) for our reading pleasure. Thank you.
Came for the emotionally distant rats, stayed for the reflection on the perceived immobility of ever moving life
Loved this Tom, your writing about buildings and time and how everything is linked up with human experiences, including your own in those spaces is so well crafted as to seem effortless. Now I must find out where I can see Grey Gardens. Thanks for including the audio it’s good to hear how you phrase the writing but it’s also an ancient desire to experience the sociable practice of hearing a tale well told.
The weight of what we can contemplate when looking at old buildings is sometimes too much. You make it seem easy to communicate it in this piece, but for me I haven’t figured out how to do it yet, how to describe the chaotic bubble diagram of thoughts that race through my head when I consider what an old building has witnessed and hosted and been subject to. Thanks for sharing as always Tom.
Such a great read, thanks. But now I am strangely obsessing about those rats. "We just feel more than six feet from our local rats because they’re very emotionally distant." I am wondering if this is rats in general? if not then what has traumatised your local rats? I wonder if they are more enlightened than other rats and therefore detaching themselves from humans in order not to be hurt by witnessing human decline. This sentence will haunt and tease me!!!
Gray Gardens is one of my favorites. It's so layered. You have a portrait of where they are now, which is shocking, but you can imagine what they must've had by their conversation, and all they have lost, their wealth, lost family, lost fame. It's fascinating and humorous and sad. One of the best documentaries, in my opinion, ever, because it shows so poignantly the complexity of life, which is a slow progression of loss. Plus they're just fascinating people. The documentary Crumb is similar. Just a portrait of a broken humanity. This is a great post. I love the unique structure! A series of thoughts about different things, almost like we're privy to your mind as you're walking through the woods. And the writing is phenomenal, so thank you for this!
I loved listening to that Tom. Not sure if you are planning on doing any more audio versions of your writing but I will definitely listen if you do.
I really enjoyed listening to your audio version! Your voice comes through in your writing but it's still fun to hear you speak it. As always, a pleasure to read/listen and smile often doing so.
I grew uo with cats in Montreal, and we did not have a catflap or cat-door. We had cats that would spend most of the day outdoors, come in before dark, eat a great deal and then sleep most of the night. Yes, they were strange cats, since they did not do the usual nocturnal activities that cats do, like walking on your head while you are sleeping, knocking items off your dresser and meowing to be let out.
Later on, as a young adult, I lived in a low-rise apartment building. I did not let the cat ever go outside, because I did not want it to pick up any feline diseases. Maybe it was wrong of me, but I thought then I was protecting him and increasing his chances of a long life.
This cat, named Precious, a grey Persian, did all the things a nocturnal cat did. We eventually came to a gentleman's agreement. Precious could awaken me at 3 am, whereby I would feed him. Then 10 minutes later he would hop into my bed. I often woke up with him on my head.
I really enjoyed this and as others have said, I will read it a few more times. I had a tabby cat called Florence who refused to use the cat flap unless I held it open for her. I could never work out why.
For some reason I usually prefer to read an article or a story rather than listen to it, but you made listening to this an absolute aural pleasure. You have a true gift for the pen and the voice.
Very much enjoyed listening to this. A lot resonated, from the having to get up at least twice a night to let the ruler of our house in and out our bedroom window (we have never thought to put a cat flat in our wee cottage), to the exploration of old buildings to the passage of time. In respect of buildings it made me recall a derelict croft we explored up the Angus Glens last year. There was still a mirror on the wall, wall paper peeling off the walls and a still not fully fledged bird of prey perched on the windowsill. For a short while we stepped back in time, imagining the lived lived there and marvelling in the new life there now.
I love your writing.
Good stuff … https://youtu.be/6NZh9ennozk?si=QMZki8JAxdWQxiua
Another great read Tom!