Sunday, September 07, 2003

I am happy. Sitting here with Miss Joey on my lap, looking up to signal that she wants more petting. Mama Cat comes and stands next to the chair until I pick her up and pet her too. The phone rings. It is Him, telling me the time of the birthday get together on Saturday. I decide that it won't depress me, that I will remain calm. I am less happy, because that is what happens when he calls. Someday I'll be done feeling sad about it.

I am pleased with my house. I have new curtains fashioned from an abstract blue sheet from Urban Outfitters. It already has a few pinholes from naughty cat claws. But it makes my study brighter and cheerier. Around me hang pieces of 1920s-1930s linoleum, with cracks and nailholes. The are from about the same time frame as when the house was built, 1928.

I sit on the front porch and chat on the phone with my friends, new and old, and I am not lonesome. Not too long, because the chives are blooming and the smell is noxious. My new plants are doing well, adapting to their pots. In the fall I'll buy a few annuals to add color to the area.

Someone asked me why I was blogging. It is difficult to explain. I like writing about something different, about ideas or a fevered rant on politics, or a dream or a scene that sticks in my mind. I carry the digital camera around, because you never know when something interesting might present itself. It makes me feel good, I guess, and that is reason enough.


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