Forlorn

Lovely cool sunny day. Perfect for the Living Traditions Festival. Thought about going last evening, but both of us in too much of a mood, aching and cranky. When the rain fell most thoroughly and the wind whipped up, we felt better in ourselves and our urge to hunker down. We'll go soon, have Indian tacos for lunch, hear some music, watch some dancing, enjoy being out.

The management responded to our request for some carpet cleaning by offering it gratis, since we renewed our lease. Moby's atypical episodes of peeing on the carpet this week, near the entry, spurred our desire to get it properly cleaned. Guess the cat-rent is being applied. Fair enough. It's a bit weird, sitting here on the sofa while the guy cleans the high traffic areas. The bed is covered with guitars, and a disgruntled cat. (Update, cat under the bed.) I'm trying to concentrate on these words. Balcony window wide open. It's going to be humid in here.

Later:
Lunch had. Gaffers tape for the guitar stand. Rain, with soft hail for a while. Dramatic skies. Going to the festival later, hoping for just a little break in the weather. Moby wandering around dubiously, wet carpet beneath is paws is not a happy experience. Giving the small fan (fabric blades, safe) dirty looks every time he slinks by it. Sitting in the kitchen, ignoring his bed, looking forlorn.