Saturday evening as we were eating with Dale and Stephen on the sun porch –ten feet apart—the rain came down. It had not rained for five weeks and we could not get enough water to the vegetables and ornamentals to keep some of them alive. We’re dependent on well water and we already had one pump die and one well dry up over the years. It rained steadily and plentifully straight down for four hours! What a pleasure. I cannot begin to describe how happy it made me. The next day it rained a little more. Every plant that had survived perked up and by the next morning, had visibly grown.
Since Xena died, our cat family mourned with us and each in their own way. Now Willow has stepped up and claimed the vacant throne. Who would have expected it? The boys were lost and cowed when Xena died. Willow seemed confused at first, looking for Xena every night. But after a while she began to change from the shy, nervous easily spooked cat we were used to, to a strong commanding presence who will push either of the male cats off the bed if she doesn’t want to share me. She plays with both of them more than she ever did. She still is wary of guests but has joined us in most indoor activities.
We decided it is time to get a female kitten. I know both Mingus and Schwartzie will accept the kitten and play with her. I worry about Willow because she is so clearly enjoying her new status. But it’s time. Two feral kittens were brought in to CASAS animal shelter in Provincetown, where we brought Woody’s mother’s cat Lady, when his mother could no longer take good care of her. It took volunteers at CASAS over a week just to get the matts out of Lady’s hair.
Anyhow, these kittens are a boy and a girl. The female is coming to us when socialized and ready. They were just seven weeks old when brought to the shelter. The girl is friendlier, we are told, plays readily, eats well and purrs when petted. At the moment, Woody and I are enjoying a long sporadic argument about what name our new kitten will have. I pester CASAS once a week to ask about her development. I have a photo of the two of them. She is mostly various shades of grey. I like grey cats [as well as black, brown, orange, white, striped, tuxedo, tabby, with various blotches, with points or without]. Woody and I’ve had three grey cats together. They were all outstanding personalities.
Gigi and I got together on Wednesday for lunch – she brought hers and I had leftovers.
It was great to see her again. She is very careful. She is mostly operating her gallery on video and on line. She has been making videos for each artist who shows with her and setting them to music.
I’ve been writing poems this week. I think being carefully a bit social has stimulated me.
We’ve been negotiating about me making a complete audio tape of my entire new poetry book ON THE WAY OUT, TURN OFF THE LIGHT. We did a practice reading of two poems on Thursday and we’re waiting to see if our equipment meets their requirements. If so, I’ll read 180 pages of poetry over a three or four day period during the first week of August. Next week I have a paid ZOOM reading for a synagogue in Philadelphia.
The Fourth is Coming! The Fourth is HERE. We’re holing up and trying not to go out. There will be random fireworks for at least three nights. Somebody will cause a huge wreck on route six. Some visitor will cause a fracas or even attack a person who asks them to wear a mask. A dog upset by fireworks will bite a child. Some boy or man will go to Hyannis with the rescue squad from 1] shooting off fireworks and burning his hand/arm/shoulder/face 2] food poisoning from a picnic 3] Covid from a family barbeque. Someone will see a great white shark off an ocean beach and freak out. Much icecream will melt. The sun and moon will go about their business.