I crabbed around work today, snipping and snapping.
As Philip Larkin says:
The first day after a death, the new absence
Is always the same; we should be careful
Of each other, we should be kind
While there is still time.
Working on the kindness thing. Working on being careful when most of the time I just feel like being done with it all.
What I would do for two weeks on a beach with umbrella drinks and white sand, no shoes, no worries, nothing at all to think about.
Meanwhile, the kitten acts like a flying squirrel and leaps fearlessly onto the back of one of the Big Cats, who, when pushed and prodded too far, holds her down with a single paw and nips at her belly. She flails all four legs and generally pops free in seconds only to begin the torture again. She is the source of much laughter, beginning with the first light and ending with a pile of purring fur on top of my head at bedtime. I am lucky.