I clean, I wash; I don’t care.

Caryn took the photo of me getting lunch ready for her, Bruce and Patsy.

Patsy and Bruce at the table.

The last photo taken of Leon.    

I should have called them Motor and Roar because when they’re both purring it’s really loud. But they’re Fred and Ethel and they’re fabulous them (even though Ethel peed on my bed and shit on the entrance rug because Sheba was bloody sleeping in their litter box).

I clean, I wash; I don’t care.

Saturday and Sunday were only really about animal husbandry and a few errands. (You know you’re further down the slope when you arrive at the grocery store in the village in your ski jacket and slippers.)

And I realized why my whole lower body’s been hurting: It was the yard work — it was all the bending to pick up a zillion twigs, sticks and pinecones. So I went into the village and got a pair of long-handled tongs that’s made the process easier and kind of meditative.

Sunday morning we had torrential rain and beautiful low cloud in the trees — not fog, it was clear on the ground. It was like a beautiful evocative movie set.

I fed the birds — the humming bird, seed and suet feeders are all full and clean.

Bruce called yesterday morning and mentioned how well I was speaking. I hadn’t noticed so I’m glad he spoke up. After just one day alone my speech was normal on the phone — at least with him. It’s sad to face but even the visit of dear and true friends causes me stress. I have to pace my contact with people. I hate that and C-PTSD.

But then I look out the window and see the scores of Chickadees feeding and I remember I’m not alone. I have my Jays, Woodpeckers, Flickers, Sheba, Fred and Ethel.

Today the pattern continues: Wake up, feed and tire the animals to get time alone while they rest and then repeat and repeat till bedtime. And I go to bed around 8:30 now because Sheba does and she wakes me at 3:30.

I’m thinking I may have part of my deck enclosed with a screen so that come summer I can leave the four doors open on my south wall but keep the cats inside. I built the fence for Sheba so it seems fair to invest in something that vastly enhances their lives too. I’ll fill it with plants. It will be like having a veranda.