Tuesday, February 11, 2020

Steam Stream

Good morning.

Good "very early" morning.

Good "very early - in fact it is so early it is still dark for another hour" morning.

But on the other hand, good "starting to warm up already but at least it isn't unbearable" morning, too.

My alarm clock has gone haywire.  Normally, he is regular as - well, clockwork.  5am he lets me know that his food bowl could do with a little attention and dismisses me to make my first cup of tea and contemplate the excuse to not go for a walk this morning.  (The only clothes that fit and are of going for a walk standard are in the wash)

Today, he woke me at 1:30am.   He didn't get a great deal of attention past a scoop in the food bowl and I am going back to bed, Ed.

He woke me again at 4:20am.  He told me (in non-verbal cues) that his wish was not for food but company downstairs to survey the kingdom - so we did.

While I was down there, I pegged a load and put on another.

After a 2019 of very little rain, January gave us enough to turn hope around - and February has been turning up the wet dial.

Unfortunately, as is the wont of this land, some have received just a tad too much of late - and others a tad (or indeed scads) too little.

I am not complaining.  We have had our share and I am willing to pass the baton to those who need it more, but until we have cracked the magical code I think we just have to accept what is given with as good a grace as possible.

Night before last, we had a real concert in the skies - indeed, one of the thunder movements reached such a crescendo it shook the house.

The days are sultry and threatening, and resultantly I am gladly going to work in my inadequately (but better than none-ly) air-conditioned office space.

V sends me texts explaining just how sauna-like life outside the enclave is.

Insects - which were very scant on the ground until New Year - have erupted in their swarms.

The lawn has regained lushness - and then some.  Bamboo and trees that we feared we would have to write off rejuvenated.

And I have discovered the only time to really enjoy pegging washing - without cooking or being eaten alive - is 4:30am.

Thanks cat.

3 comments:

Debby said...

LOL. My cat has never been as useful as Ed. But the one thing that I can count on is that if I wake in the night, no matter what time it is, and look over the edge of the bed, in the soft glow of a Himalayan salt lamp, I will see the hopeful shining eyes of a cat who hopes to be fed.

Debby said...

I thought that I had posted a comment. My cat is not nearly as useful as Ed. She has never given me a new perspective. What I can COUNT on, however, is that no matter what time I wake up in the middle of the night, if I look over the edge of my bed, she will be sitting there, her marble eyes glinting in the glow of the salt lamp.

jeanie said...

You HAD indeed posted a comment - I was just slack in my approving of them. Sorry!!

Eddie's night time sleeping positions vary greatly, but rarely is he in a bedroom.