Sunny

I opened the blinds, exposing a sunny spot. Moby interested, but the floor was too hard. He tried to fit on the bit of carpet. I threw down my robe.

"Hmmm, this might be acceptable."

Apparently, it is.



The photobooth camera on new laptop is so much better. The whole dealie-bob is about half the weight. And it doesn't get hot. A few sensitivities I'm getting used to, but nothing that a little muscle re-training won't accept as second nature in a week or so. Rather like the progressive lenses in my glasses.



I feel much less blurry.

We went to look for a landscape rock, came away empty, but with better ideas of what might be possible. Some nice volcanic rock, probably, a good chunk. Getting it home in the car, we need to keep weight in mind. Not to mention how we are going to move the thing. The more fragile ones will work better for us.

Got more black mulch for where I pulled up broken PVC pipe from the crapped out sprinkler system, and the weeds loved to grow last year. Dug a bit, laid down one bag. Hoping all this will mean the north section will actually grow something aside from weeds and ivy this year, so long as I can keep the snails and slugs well caffeinated. We shall see. I want to rake up all the grass mulch, but the freezing nights are not over, and I'm not ready to plant for spring yet. Another 90 days. Maybe a little less, given this year, but it gets risky.

Velcro-tied up the plastic undercarriage thingy at the front of the car. This is a constant, must be done once in a while. Horrible sound when it scrapes the road, even though probably not important. As long as I can keep it on there, I'm not going to worry about a bit of wear. Looks much the same over the years.

Took both cats outside. Moby first, then again, last. Eleanor once in between, and out back. She took it better, doesn't seem to mind the harness unduly. Still very hesitant, but clearly enjoying rolling on the sidewalk and sitting by the compost. I don't ask why, it's a cat thing, I wouldn't understand.


Eleanor came over, nestled in beside Moby. He sniffed at her, she bopped him, we broke it all up. She's on the robe now, he's on his stool at my feet. Cats. Who can figger 'em?