Wednesday, July 11, 2012

night noise

Since we’ve been back (one week!), Isis has been kind enough not to sleep in the farmhouse. Let’s just say I don’t encourage him to overnight here and most of the time, he seems content to leave by midnight to prowl, or do whatever it is that cats do at night.

Last night was different. Isis did not spend the evening with us and I thought he may have called it a day earlier, until, just before going to bed, I open the windows (it's a cooler night! yes!!), while continuing to chat away with Ed. Isis hears our conversation. The door bell rings (in case you don’t remember – we have a sound sensor that functions as a doorbell if any living creature passes by).

No! You don’t have to let him in! – I say this without any hope at all that Ed would leave Isis outside when he’s obviously trying to come in.

And so there is Isis, in my very least favorite space: between Ed’s shoulder and my shoulder, on the bed, content, nails clinging to the quilt cover, purring away.

But not for long. Two hours later he’s meowing to go out. I leave that one to Ed.

One middle of the night wake up, several more to come.

Another hour passes. I’m dozing, but then I’m wide awake. Did the door bell ring again? I can’t tell. I listen for a repeat – no, nothing. Ed snores, I go back to sleep.

Within minutes, I’m awake again. There's loud, very loud howling. Coyotes? Cats in love? Cats fighting?
Go to sleep, gorgeous. He’ll wake for a doorbell, but not for night noises. Me, I worry. Is Isis being attacked? Again?

I go downstairs, open the door, call out to him. Isie-boy, Isie-boy! He comes trotting up the walkway. Whatever it was, he’s not hurt. I let him in, relieved. He’s back on the bed, this time at Ed’s feet.

...until an hour or so later, when I wake up to the sound of him throwing up. On our quilt cover. Thanks, pal. I saved you from the night’s horrors and you do this. Ed takes him out, wipes up the mess (a very temporary fix), we try to sleep.

But an hour later, the door bell’s chiming again. Ed’s up, stumbling down the stairs – no Isis, no anything.

By now the sky is not so dark. Predawn. We pick up our laptops because really, you can only try to sleep so many times in any one night.

Here’s Isis playing, later in the day. In case you're wondering -- the cat is doing well.


In other news: I was late for every appointment today because... well, Rosie the moped cried “no fair.” I’d neglected her for months and expected her to rev up and deliver now that I’m back. She balked. So there was that. Sorry, Rosie. But can we please get going? Crank, crank, roar. Finally.

It's nice to be zippin' around the rural roads again.


Second item: we're still pumping water onto the garden round the clock. I'm not sure it helps, but it makes us feel better.


Third item: I’m on the Capitol Square (it's the night for a picnic and a concert on the square) enjoying the most perfect outdoor evening (however warm and dry it is during the day, the evenings are back to a delightful cool) with my daughter and her fiancĂ©e. It's good to be around people who are happy. They are happy.


For the first time in the ten years I’ve been coming to these outdoor events, I bring my laptop. People eat, drink, talk quietly (unless you’re by a rambunctious lot), I type.

The ride back to the farmette is magnificent (battery still dead; crank, crank... roar!).


And finally: Tomatoes! Thanks to my nephew, as well as Ed’s insistence that nitrogen supps are good for growth (don’t ask), our crop out back is thriving! Today, we have our first (small) harvest!


There are few things as delicious as  plucked tomatoes, still warm from the afternoon sun.