A great sleep

A great sleep and what a shock it is! I was sure that Sammy would not let me enjoy a whole continuous hour of blissful slumber all night, but would take it as a point of honor to make me suffer for keeping him in the house. In fact, I partook of my longest straight sleep in ages, five hours of uninterrupted shuteye. Maybe I was so tired that I simply slept through the yowling. I am grateful no matter how it happened. Maybe it is a return for the morning’s rough mow, my sorrow in the grass.

We have a few nights in front of us to see for sure if there is a new pattern in the cats’ overnight behavior, because we received some more hard rain overnight, and our lawn, front and back, is flooded, and the weekend is still young.

79 degrees outside and no sun

79 degrees outside and no sun, and it is almost four in the afternoon. And no air-conditioning. Which is fine. I’m not uncomfortable. But I am thinking, “Great, Pop would pick today to go for a sleepover!” Instead of one of those tough borderline days when the high is 88 degrees, when I could feel free to put on the a/c without worrying about Pop’s nerves.

But I’m just typing. I love today, marking the end of another very long summer, and I am definitely set on kicking off my library season next week. Maybe I should take advantage of having the house to myself and shave this evening. I might not get another chance like this over the weekend. I also need to scrub the shower, but let’s not allow our ambitions to run crazy.

used to having the nights to themselves

Sammy is going a little crazy, clawing away at the bed, and I have to call him off repeatedly, and the cats are wrestling each other a little too aggressively with something in it that is more than play and less than kind, and I have to call them off repeatedly.

They are used to having the nights to themselves in the great outdoors, and I am reminded that they are still very young, but they are starting to get up there in age, so that one could hope that they will start to mellow before long. I’m not going to look up the dates, but I think that Coco and Sammy turned three last spring, which would also mean that Ash turned four.

That’s pretty good. I remember when I thought that we would never see a cat reach two years of age. God bless Willy! But these three are still going strong and have remained completely unscathed, which has to be pretty good for cats that spend at least half their time outdoors among the bigger dogs and the feral cats and cruel teenage boys.