From Sunday, written while sitting on a chair with my legs dangling in the dog pool:
Big boy cat is sleeping on the kitchen counter. Big mister chonk kitten is downstairs in the lady room hanging off of the bookcase with his legs dangling like a very well fed panther. Me? I feel warm but pretty darned calm.
I don't know what it is. Lack of calendar items for the past few days, perhaps. I should not be calm at all. It's been around 90-95 in the house for that last few days. The deadline passing on our family business is a relief of sorts (until it isn't -- but a consultant says that the only thing keeping us from thriving is fear).
Worry about the cats has waned now that little girl's suffering is over. Sweet friends sent us flowers in the color of her fur. Everybody thought that the one who died was the big boy. He is doing well.
Mrguy is too hot. I think he's doing well but is taxed by the heat.
I filled up the dog pool in the back yard. Friends came over and put their legs in. I invited clam, but she was busy with family stuff so I came back to the dog pool myself and watched the light fade while doing a meditation focus exercise. Close your eyes and spend half a minute thinking about each sense, one sense at a time. What do you hear? What do you smell? What do you taste? What do you feel? It was lovely. I could feel the cool water on my legs and the sweat on my forearms. I could hear the whoosh of traffic on the freeway. I could smell the (few) blossoms on the lime tree. Taste is always a challenge, but I realized I could still taste 4 o'clock's popsicle. Centered, I opened my eyes and watched the water on the bay and thought about the joy of having the only dog pool in town with a 3 bridge view.
It was several days before it cooled down. And today I used a blanket on the sofa for the first time in a month.
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