It is expected to be lovely today. I’ll try to keep this short, as I have a very busy day ahead of me. The sun is shining brightly through my window—a splendid sight to raise the spirits. This morning I am drinking my coffee out of my Al Jaeger mug. He is a master potter who lives here in town, and a delightful soul. A couple of years back we traded crafts: two of my books for one of his mugs. Originally I had gotten the mug as a Christmas present for my then-husband. He left. I kept the mug.
It’s an earthy, organic brown, perfectly designed, easy to hold, with a generous capacity. The interior glaze includes materials Al got off of his own property. It’s dark with a sprinkling of cinnamon. I’m very fond of it, especially considering the source.
Yesterday I cleaned out the spare room, carefully packing up Angi’s things to be stored in the attic until she is able to pick them up. Angi was the artist who stayed with us for a while with her three cats. She did the cover of my second novel, and designed the cover of my third. It’s been a rough year for her, losing her living situation and then that terrible car accident which she is still recovering from. I dearly hope she can get her life together soon.
In the meantime, we really need use of that room back. We still have one remaining guest, Bruce the cat, who belongs to a writer friend. Another temporary lodger, we are keeping him for them until they can get their house sold. Everybody involved fervently hopes that is soon. They miss him, of course, and as charming as Bruce is, he has just about worn out his welcome. He is curious and bold, and gets into things, including the trash. He is especially interested in what is at the bottom of the bathroom trash receptacle. He also has a great deal to say, especially in response to closed doors. Regardless of Bruce’s operatic protests, sometimes doors need to be closed, since what my guys eat is a special diet which costs about three times as much as what Bruce eats, and what Bruce eats is not good for them.
Bruce does have an unusual and expressive meow. But we are less than thrilled to hear it at four in the morning when he begins to perform La Traviata. And my cats, after putting up with Angi’s crew for several months, are all out of patience. They want this obnoxious interloper gone, and they want him gone yesterday. Their frustration is partly due to having been cooped up in the house all winter. At least they can go outside now and get away from him. Bruce is constantly trying to follow them, because outdoors in interesting and new, but he is not allowed. This is an added challenge.
Never mind. With luck the house will sell soon, and Bruce can go back to where he belongs. Then things can settle down a bit. My guys can stop expressing their fury by trying to spray everywhere that Bruce has been (which is pretty much everywhere) and we can start making use of the spare room for our own needs. No more guests, at least long term. The house is ours, the four of us, and this year is going to be about making that work, repurposing space to our use, reclaiming the parts still cluttered with the debris of those departed.
Stability is what we all need. There has been too much chaos. The uncertainties of Life always inject a dose of chaos no matter how well one plans. But we can do our best to minimize it.