First Hug Fourteen years ago, I adopted two kittens, litter mates, Coco and Mango. Coco was the delicate brother, the runt of the litter. He appeared aloof but allowed me to scoop him into my arms for a first hug. I loved his snow white boots and white chest. He was a handsome cat. We instantly knew we were meant to be together. The first years brought a flurry of gymnastics between Coco and Mango. They tackled and stalked one another, played endlessly with anything that moved, and their curiosity was boundless, from ordinary household items to the majesty of a sunrise. This photo was published in The Record, May 2002 . Mr. Coco had a habit of running out the door whenever he could. H knew he wasn't meant to be a house cat but a fearless hunter roaming the grass and bushes. It would sometimes take an hour to retrieve him back to the safety ...
When I awoke this morning I felt my age of somewhere between the beginning of time and the present. Peeked outside to see a feast. A perfect morning with bright sunlight, a virgin snowfall, and the sky a deep sea blue. So what it was 19 degrees. So what if the wind made it feel like 6. Two pairs of pants, layers of sweaters, two pairs of gloves, heavy jacket, scarf and boots made it feel almost like summer. A 12 year old kid grabbed her surf snowboard and headed toward the hill behind a nearby school. There were only two other children there with their dad. After several sweeps into the soft powder, I asked for a quick photo. Immediately after there was more surfing, climbing the hill, and some hoots of excitement. The snow hugged the trees and carpeted the road, and allowed me to grasp a wisp of youth.