This morning feels like autumn came in and is making herself at home for the next few days. I say welcome, enjoy the stay, don't be in a hurry to leave, sit a spell...what a lovely way to start the day. After the rain yesterday afternoon and that cool breeze took over, I pulled out my ratty tatty comfortable, like a good friend flannel shirt and wore it for the rest of the day. In true old lady style, it didn't match a thing I was wearing. Add the muck boots and I am sure when I went down to the road to get a delivery out of the mailbox, people were just plain jealous of the stylings of an old woman on the first day of fall.
The original plan had been to get out today, drive to TN and enjoy the scenery and then stop at a few of my favorite places. I just did the Covid check for that county and the rating is extremely high for the spread, so not going to go do that today. That would be a really wise choice, so now, plan B, which isn't a bad plan, just to get out and enjoy the day. I need to buy a new Bona mop since I destroyed, accidentally, the one we had. When moving furniture it is always good to check the path, which I did but then, moving the couch caused the mop to fall into the pathway of a determined woman moving furniture.
Today, one week since Buddy left us for Kitty Heaven, I emptied her water dish but just not down the sink but out on a plant on the front porch. I wrote before this dish is really the last tangible place that Buddy touched and lived. I could put up toys, didn't bother me. Fed the Feral Fam an upgrade of Fancy Feast that was Buddy's but the water dish, so difficult. Had a brief gratitude ceremony before emptying the dish. There are still days when I almost call for her and I woke myself up the other night, calling her name in my sleep. That cranky, but sweet, ornery but loveable Buddy, left a hole in my heart but she left so many good times and memories to fill up that hole that her lack of presence has left. A side note of sorts, I never let myself cry over HP this summer because it felt like Buddy probably wasn't very long for this earth. Had that brief hope that my neighbor had really seen HP, but after seeing the cat she took for HP and it wasn't her, I think a few HP tears can and have mixed with Buddy tears.
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The temps were in the low 40s upon awakening this morning. Lots of fog as well and it is such a beautiful morning. The Feral Fam, treated and fed. I spent a lot of time with them last evening as I sat guard. King Herod has been gone for over a week and a half but he showed up yesterday. He began harassing Boodos, in the garage, where my kitties play...felt like a little Godfather shoutout might be in order. Boodos was the only cat in the garage at that time, so I shut the door. Boodos doesn't mind at all the garage door being shut. KH stuck around but finally I was able to leave guarding for the evening and the rest finished up their din din. Pick on Boodos in front of me and there will be a confrontation. His walk and demeanor show he has suffered life changing injuries from this horrid KH.
After a dismal spring/summer reading list put out by all the book people and orgs that I follow, the fall/winter reading list looks so much better. April and October were those months I looked forward to when it came to reading, especially anything in a southern genre. On the fall list, many take place in NC, so that is a plus. This week while cleaning out bookshelves, I know I should read what has been around the house for awhile, but the promise of new books is always a happy moment and the vows not to buy anymore are broken. Just like the flannel shirt vow was broken earlier in the month.
Note to self, stop reading books that make you think right before going to bed. Restless and fitful sleep and the new little refrigerator for the bonus room doesn't help. It makes the weirdest noise so I am going to try shutting the door to the bonus room and hopefully that will dull out some of the periodic noise.
Sometimes memories from long ago just pop up, uninvited to my mind. This morning while putting on my shoes, I remembered a long ago Sunday School class meeting. We were in a couples class and as we all sat around and talked with one another, the meeting turned into the serious business of the class. I don't even recall who was in the class, but our teachers hosted the fellowship/meeting/who knows why we were assembled, thing. The teacher was one of those kinds of guys that was the hero to every story he ever told. If it hadn't been for him...kind of thing. He wanted the men of the class to go out and do, whatever we had gathered to discuss or plan, and the women could stay home and pray. Like prayer was punishment for being women. Truthfully, it was the most important part of the unremembered mission, but probably it was just busy work to him, you know, keep the women out of our hair while I, oops we, go and do great things for God. After some bravado and pontification, Roy spoke. I was never more prouder of Roy than at that moment. He said, this all sounds fine and good, but so far you've relegated all the behind the scenes tasks to the women of the class, what are you afraid of? He continued, it is good to help but tell me, as I am searching for a job, more than a contract position, and as I daily assure Nancy that God has not forgotten us, in all this "ministry" when are we going to take the time to learn how to be strong in the Lord at home? When as men, do we take time to pray together? How do we trust the Lord when it is so difficult to do so? Why are we doing things to be noticed by the church, when most probably most of us sitting here have so much to say grace over. It would be nice to have some encouragement from men who have gone through this, so we can love and reassure our families consistently. You could of heard a pin or even a pen drop. Roy had done the unspoken thing, he showed vulnerability in the middle of machofest ministry. It was as if he had never said anything and they moved on with the discussion of the macho ministry, whatever it was. On the way home Roy suggested we find another class. Hey, I was for that. I didn't fit in with the "holy" women of the class, but that is another story for another day. One never knows what will pop in at the most ordinary of times, although some of my best Mildred and Gertrude songs or ideas came while brushing my teeth.
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