We haven't seen Jack in three days and this is worrisome. The large gray and white feral which shows up now and then has been a more constant presence lately and some cat's been pissing on my back porch which generally demonstrates unrest in the feline community.
Maurice slept on my feet all night except for the time between two and three when I was having trouble sleeping and then she crept up and put her head beneath my hand and I stroked her soft fur for a long time. She even attempted to purr a time or two which does not come naturally to her at all.
My nurse cat. My therapist cat. My crazy cat who will take my hand off at the wrist if she's not in the mood but who seems to discern the times when I need comfort most and who offers it then, more of a gift because it is so rare.
I feel as if I've been beaten with a hammer all night long.
I'm so dramatic. Jesus.
Lord, it's a beautiful day and they're working on the railroad behind my yard. A noisy proposition. I should go for a walk and I don't have it in me. Whatever "it" is, which was beaten out of me with a hammer all night long.
I hear saws and pounding and the constant running of large machines and the voices of men. Although I cannot hear everything they say, certain words come through.
I think it is someone's birthday.
And they sound like nice men. Funny how humor and cheer can come through, even if the exact words are not clear. Every now and then one of them laughs, a deep belly laugh that rings out.
I can hear the cardinals too. They chip-chip-chip and crack the seeds with their strong black beaks and the sight of the brilliant scarlet birds against the sunstruck pink camellias is a sight to see.
The world goes to hell and everyone has problems and yet, there is this too.
A soft, pure day of light and sound and color and shade dapple and I think I will go to the library today and we are talking about lunch.
Let it be, let it be.
Maybe Jack will show up later. I hope so.