Pouring

Didn't need to water, as the clouds burst. Filled the recycle bin to over-flowing, pouring off the roof. I'll scoop it out over the next week or so. Saturate.



The Epic Brewery has a tasting room, with food. So good, that D just wanted a sandwich from them this evening, I got beer to bring home. Cat sat on him the whole time he ate, we suspect that he liked the smell. He wouldn't have eaten any of it, but he stood on D's lap and sniffed. He's usually pretty polite about our food, wants to smell it and usually leaves with the evident impression "That's not food, you people are weird."



When the rain was bursting out of the sky, he stood on the porch, ears back, but intent. And not going back inside. I love how brave he's become, this cat who's been known to hide under the bed when rain is simply on the way. Now, he barely hides at actual thunder.

We've been watching a Mel Brooks retrospective. I've liked some of his work, some not so much, over the years. Never a huge fan, although Young Frankenstein is one of my favorite films ever. But interviews of him now, and a better understanding of his life means that I've grown very fond of him. How much love he puts into his work, how much intelligence is obscured by his fart jokes, how even the silliest of his stuff has a compassion for the oppressed. What I saw as sexism was a very conscious skewering of sexism, while still appreciating sexiness.

The weird thing is, he rather looks like my father, but shining through that is a bright mind and a warm heart, that my father never had. That I can see through that surface resemblance means a lot to me, that I am not still holding on to the old hurts so tightly.


Enjoying the rain. The cat asleep beside me. The guy who loves me beside him. Everything so green.