He doesn't believe me.
Moments ago I swept cat hairs off the couch and insisted that the litter box needed yet another cleaning, just because. I don't behave like a person who is in love.
But at the end of the day, Isis, to me, spells home. His snuggley side, his love of the farmhouse, his clamoring for a piece of that trout that I buy for him now every week -- they add up.
And so on this tough tough work day, I come home late and I see Isis and I think (and say) -- I love this cat.
Otherwise, the day is as it was going to be: frosted over, for the first time this year...
With breakfast in the sun room...
Followed by work. When it is time finally to head for campus, I bundle up, drag out rosie ("do I have to? -- she asks... she is a fair weather girl) and... go nowhere. She will not start.
I want to shout - Edddddd! - but he is at the dentist's. I abandon rosie and apologize to the bumperless Ford for all the disparaging comments I've made about it lately.
I drive in. I give my two hour lecture. I drive back.
Ed is working on various motorized vehicles as I pull in. There was a bug trapped inside your starter system. That's why you couldn't start.
A bug? A big bug?
Little bug. I cleaned it out. She's ready to go (tomorrow).
It's nearly dark. We go inside.