Sunday, August 11, 2019


Looking back, it all looks so normal. So ordinary. And yet, it's a Sunday that feels slightly unbalanced. As if some of the pieces are not quite aligned properly.

Morning rains. Heavy at times. Diminishing finally when I go out to feed the cats. They're huddled together, all six little ones, as if surprised by the weather. Dance is there as well, though a little to the side.

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They're all not eating. Only one -- wee little Dark Blue -- ventures anywhere near the food dish.

Dance, their older half sibling, is really thin. Something is off with her health, even as she has taken to coming to me for a solid rub behind the ears.

Seven cats, seven complicated lives.

I have to repair the garden after a couple of days of neglect. At this point, I am really transfixed by the rare stem sporting one or two lily blooms. So beautiful, and increasingly -- so rare.

A few to remember, wet and radiant!

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How about the entirety? Oh, still fine. Not as abundant, but totally fine!

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(the Big Bed, August version...)

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By 9 I'm done. I go back to bed (Ed never left it). I drift in and out of sleep for another hour. Maybe more. Luxury, no? It felt that way. I never sleep in late. Really, never.

A few cursory swipes at farmhouse surfaces (I'm supposed to clean the house today, no?), then breakfast.

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It's still cloudy, but there's no rain, so Ed and I bike over to Stoneman's for their fresh corn. Thirteen ears, no photos.

And now we split up: Ed goes to my mom's, to fix some stuff for her and I head out to the grocery store. On Sunday! Very weird. By the time I'm home, I see that it's really really late. I need to fix dinner for the young family! I rev up the motors and put a move on it. No, really, I rush like a crazy hyena.

The young family arrives...

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Don't worry, I'm on it! My daughter has a chore to get through, I have a dinner to cook. Meantime, kids want to be held. Both. For no good reason.

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Finally: dinner's ready!

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The dinner feels good and normal. I mean, it's slightly cool right now, but still, it's typical August stuff: on the porch!

After the young family leaves, after the last dish is washed clean, I go outside and try once more to coax some food into the kitties. I have some enticing cans of yummy tidbits! Again, only one of them takes a nibble. The others? Solidly refusing to touch anything.

Well so be it. Who can understand cats anyway.

I retreat to the farmhouse, Ed pops some corn for the both of us. Heavenly in its simplicity and ordinariness.