Back to it, again. Finally!

Anyone who follows me on Facebook, knows what I’ve been going through, but life is slowly returning to a new normal.  In spite, or because of, everything that has happened, I’ve started a new mixed form book that I’m absorbed in.

Shaman is growing every day.  He is now fully an adolescent.  He has had a strong bond with Schwartzie from the beginning, but his bond with my more reclusive female cat Willow is growing. I got into bed last night, turned off the light, and realized I needed something from my purse in my office. As I was crossing the hall in the dark, I stepped on Shaman. He let out a screech.  Willow came running, went off with him as he ran into the livingroom and thoroughly examined him.  Schwartzie came, too, but Willow was faster.  They both are strongly attached to him. He is a born Alpha Male who is already top cat at age 6 ½ months and Willow responds to that.

He’s a water loving cat who begs me a few times a day to turn on the bidet for him, gets in my way on the sink when I’m brushing my teeth or washing my hands or face.  I have to shut the toilet lid to keep him out.  He’s fallen in the full bathtub at least once, but didn’t seem to mind it all that much.  A dripping faucet is his delight. Why is he so attracted to running water?

It has been a gorgeous fall and still is.  Recent wind finally knocked off a lot of leaves.  Woody has to collect them before the storm hits here Friday night, as he wants the compost they’ll produce.  We haven’t yet had a frost on the Outer Cape.  Still a number of flowers in bloom. We’re eating salads from my garden and leeks from his. We’ll be cooking and eating parsnips soon.  Woody has been learning to be a much better cook, until I can take over again.

We’re discussing and firming up Thanksgiving plans with 6 other people coming.  Instead of doing all the cooking, I’ve got Dale making the 2nd dessert and the vegetable; Tasha will make hors d’oeuvres.  Melenie and I will make the apple cranberry sauce, the stuffing in and out of the bird, the potiron tout rond and my rum pumpkin pie.  Since I have only limited use of my left arm, she’ll have to do far more of the cooking than ever before.  But we will manage.

I’m getting my energy back slowly with an occasional down day.  But already I have more energy than I’d enjoyed in a few months.  I have to be careful not to let that encourage me to overdo. I finished reading World Archeology zine last evening.  I skip some articles in which I have zero interest when I’m reading my SCIENCE NEWS but almost never skip any article in my American or my British archeology zine.

Every winter, a couple of poets of quite high caliber submit after the workshop is filled.  I offer them the possibility of being alternates [and every year at least one poet drops out when things get very real] or being pre-accepted for the next year, or, if they choose, both possibilities.  In early November, I contact each of them to find out if they are still interested.  I did that this week.  I’m still waiting to hear from  one of the poets.  The other is in for June 2023.