(that's a little bit of Cedar's 'milk face,' as in, Woman, what are you doing. Feed me.)
Morning light. The storm is on its way. Tim went to the store late last night to buy gasoline for the generator. I've been filling all available jugs and containers with water. I like the hum of preparation, yet hope the storm is not bad after all. I hope the old pines keep standing.
Pumpernickel french toast. Local maple syrup. Tim set the table.
Cedar passed being four months yesterday, and is now in the very beginning of his fifth. He slept 7 hours in a row the past two nights. The first time I didn't get much sleep as I was a little worried and kept waking up, but last night I was much more at peace since I knew he might do it again. I was laughing at breakfast for the first time in a while. And I'm not sure why he is sleeping so long. Just in time though. Just as it really couldn't have gotten harder, or I couldn't have bourne it.
Just by the time I figure out what was going on it has already passed and I'm into deep water again. In hindsight everything would be so much easier if I had only known what I know now. But I couldn't have known if I didn't learn on the way. Just barely in time. I wonder if it will always seem this way.