I was feeling wiped at work, so I bugged out early after letting my manager know. I napped, and rose around dusk just after Katherine left for class.
The quiet made me feel like I was back in my old apartment in Kingston NY, a third story walk up over an optician on a good block in a not so good part of town. It was the same isolation, and yet ...
... The Summerhill Kitten Farm blog has enough pictures of the house to more than hint at our creature comforts, and for that matter, the creatures escorting me about the house have broken my reverie multiple times. And there's the matter of the car in the garage -- I lacked both in Kingston.
One could say life is good here, far better than my first lonely winter in the Mid-Hudson Valley a quarter of a decade ago.
I'll just say it's time to feed my trusted companions.
Minor note: Note this is not about the feline overlords, although they were certainly about. If it was, I'd have posted this on the kitten blog. No, life is different from when I was in Kingston.
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