My cat, who came with the house, has several routines when I get home from work. After the quick meow toward his dish, as I’m piling off my computer bag, lunch bag, books and stuff, he jumps up on the sink. This evening, he really was thirsty, but sometimes it is just part of his getting attention routine. (You don’t drink water from a bowl on the floor do you?)
The goal of this feline business is to convince me of the need to open the refrigerator door and pull out the bowl with the tin of tuna in it. This has been refilled to the brim with water and steeped all day. Mickey’s favorite drink — tuna water tea.
So today, I felt expansive and happy to be home. Before I went out to water the back yard, I dribbled the tuna water tea into his tin cup on the floor and gave him a pat.
Mom had a little beef stew going she was tending so the kitchen smelled like Kansas. How nice to have daylight, even though it is weirdly warm out. I gave the strawberries, herbs, iris and a few grasses a drink of water. Dolores joined me on the patio — that’s how warm it was this evening. She chatted about a phonecall from Alice and I said “Uh huh” and “Oh really?” while I tended the plants.
I saw new buds and thought about the flowering plum outside my bedroom window. When it blooms there are supposed to be blue black skies and stormy cold winds that toss the balls of blossoms about on their stems. Right now that would not be the picture. Wednesday, maybe a little weak front approaching.
I resume my meditation, “Come on, Rain!” And Mickey stays vigilant about his drinks from the sink and the prospects for tuna water tea.
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