Friday, October 21
Sure is chilly and gray and rainy here. The house is kind of cold and unfamiliar and smells of litterbox and wet wood from our old leak which seems to have survived the reconstruction of roof and solarium. It's rough to come back from the optimism and green of springtime to this sad wet grayness.
I'm not giving myself much of a schedule today, but number one on the agenda is to warm this place back up, cook food until it smells like home again. That, and clean up the dried-out hairballs as I find them. And to go through the box of mail that piled up in our absence and pay all the bills which were due yesterday. And to mail the stupid letters we carried across the world and back, since there are no mailboxes or postal facilities of any kind in US airports now. (The terrorists won.)
8:45 AM
