Wednesday, September 25


I hear nothing, so I get up from my chair. Cedar has opened the gate and gone down the front steps to follow the cat, organizing four garden gourds on his way. I bring him back inside and notice I need to sweep the walk. Scrambled eggs with spinach and cheese are lunch, with chopped prunes and lemon poppyseed biscotti (counter grazing). He still has not napped. I put the dogs out and they reappear having come right back in the porch door. Cedar feeds his scrambled eggs to Indigo over the kitchen gate, one for him, one for the dog. I soak his wool onsie in Eucalan. The mangoes were a bust. I dug out three forsythia by the roots this morning while Cedar played around me and collected chestnuts. He's been battling a cold and the combination of sunshine, dirt, worm-spotting, nut-throwing and exploring in his orbit around me has perked him up. His water cup holds chamomile tea. He goes into the cupboard and gets out the breast pump, throwing the parts over the gate to the dog. I retrieve them. I take out the recycles, notice the broken glass pane I need to clean up. The cat wants to be fed. I haven't eaten my lunch yet. The dryer dings; time to push the laundry along. I don't. Instead, I plug the computer cord in, watch Cedar sharing bits of prune with Indi, see the burning bush turning red outside the window, take down the tool basket to sort those which go out to the garage, and hear Cedar go out the front door again, this time to pull up the black-eyed susan and tease the cat.

It's like a waltz.