by dishpantheism

i noticed an assembly of cats on the roof of the old barber shop as the sun rose this morning. feral cats all of them. they’d congregated to soak in the warmth of the sunlit shingles. but the sunlight didn’t last long and an icy fog swept into town. they scattered when the little woman who lives in the old barber shop produced a bucket of something foodish. all of them clambering to get to her first. i believe she has nerves of steel.

the twin oaks by the front gate have turned pink and green and crimson. at the top they are brilliant orange. coral-edged. lime-veined. a pair of billing doves appeared beneath the lower boughs. mauve and grey. it was lovely. i noticed late asters on the bank of the creek too. almost as lovely as billing doves.

knitting a gift for a friend. knitting several chunky tweed sweaters for myself. i am almost always cold. but i won’t complain as it provides me with a ready excuse to continue knitting.

walked to a craft fair with sister and her beau. i was looking for the woman who sells pygora yarn. she was not there and the place was humid and crowded. we beat a hasty retreat. in the alley the walnuts were thudding down from the trees every time the wind blew. sister’s beau said “what’s that sound?” sister replied “widow-makers.” when he looked perplexed i said “walnuts dropping.” just then a particularly large one fell and we all tensed a little and then laughed. they break windshields. i suppose they break people too if they fall right.

i am anxiously awaiting news of a new job. fingers crossed. and crossed again.

making summer travel plans. southern hemisphere. not all of it. just a bit.

wellidy. that’s that.