My mother -- Alice -- has been gone now for nine years, and last night I was sitting alone, in a fidgety mood, and thought: I should call Mom.
Don't think that's one I'll ever get used to.
The yard is slowly-slowly-slowly coming into shape. R. and I de-piled and swept that concrete pad where an old-fashioned camping fire pit has been established by enterprising sons. The sunflowers are planted, there are baby leeks just beginning to perk up, the tomato plants aren't languishing, yet.
And the kitten: the first few days I thought I'd made a mistake -- she was cute (of course), but nothing seemed to be "clicking". But now -- well -- of course she's the cutest thing on four paws! The most intelligent! The most clever! The funniest kitten ever! (Of course.) Today she is six weeks old. A baby. She makes me Laugh! OUT! Loud!