Solitude

Dave's out of town, I'm sick, and the damn cats are taking advantage. I forget how much we divide their attention-with only one of us here, I've got this whole clowder to contend with.

That's OK, livens up my otherwise quiet day, and gives me an excuse to speak...otherwise I'm just talking to myself, and that's crazy.

Nice days, days off. In the morning, the living room fills with soft white light. In the afternoon, my bedroom's golden and gleaming as the sun sets. High crisp skies and the breeze down my avenue. Neighbors I barely know and the man down the street who cries as he paints his brand new white picket fence. Three thanksgivings worth of leftovers courtesy of my community. Not bad, even ill.