Finding Pleasure
Yesterday, I asked. Is it Fall? The answer this morning is yes. It’s 62, and I need to think about shelter for the cats. We’re down to two, and one of them is new. A tom. He’s getting used to the routine. He waits at the door for breakfast, shows up for dinner, and hangs on the porch during the day. I’ll bring down crates and bedding this afternoon and set them up on the south porch. No need for the heat lamps, but a warm spot to cuddle is good. 62 is probably chilly, even for a cat.
In other news I’ve decided the Turks Caps along the front porch need to go, especially the ones close to the Marie Pavia rose. Given how the trees have grown it’s hard for the rose to find the sun in the summer, and the Turks Caps are part of the problem at ground level. They’re big, tall, and bushy. So, even the afternoon sun is hard to come by for the rose. Now feels as good a time as any to start the work, and it’s not like I’m short on Turks Caps.
It will be hard work digging them up, and the flower bed will need replenishment, but the fun part will come when I look for replacements. I want low growers. Flowers would be nice but not required. Grasses are good, too. But all in good time. First comes the work, and oddly enough, that too is something to anticipate with some degree of pleasure, even if it is only the pleasure of knowing I’m still able to do the work.