November 12, 2007

J came over last night, and regardless of my exhaustion–which was considerable– I wouldn’t turn him away. He adored the kittens. It wasn’t till he asked that I thought to write down what Mickey’s mother said, that they are New Orleans orphans rescued from the broken streets, and that she and her rescue organization have hundreds like them to find homes for. J‘s approval made “Circe” and “Maude” permanent. The kittens insisted on being part of the action, and what start as embraces ended up being kitten-wrestling and a good deal of laughter. Almost broke my face smiling at J asleep in the candlelight, two tiny kittens and colossal Titus asleep against the length of his body. Indignant Jocasta curls in my lap as I type, wanting assurance in the midst of change.

J must have read my mind deeper than I was. I needed him without knowing that’s what I needed.

After several freezes, the roses remain, and the snapdragons, whose hardiness is a surprise to me.