Saturday Morning Lazy

Saturday Morning Lazy

I sleep in to 8.20 – after reading in bed until 2.30am.
 

Warmth wakes me. Our late (sub-tropical) Winter resembles early Spring.

My little cat has had a vomit after eating grass, as cats do. Aha! the new passage floor is vinyl – quick and easy to clean.

I find her drowsing on one of the rugs brought from her old home five months ago. It's one she's previously ignored. She settled in here well – already knew me, soon loved and trusted – but perhaps craves extra security just now? Recent renovations have changed some details of the space.

A gentle pat, then I leave her be.

I go to my computer for another look at my revamped poetry blog. Another gloat. I finished it last night, and I love it so much! I changed the theme so my ‘Follow’ option is visible without hunting. I found a deep red background reminiscent of both the elegant, stylised roses of my original ‘Enheduanna’s Daughter’ and the naturalistic rose of its predecessor, ‘The Passionate Crone’.

I’m renovating all my environments!

A little play on facebook ... suddenly it’s 9.14 and I haven’t had breakfast. Not even coffee! Well, it’s the weekend. Late breakfasts still in jammies are the way to go. On weekend mornings I can treat myself to lovely, unhealthy raisin toast. I do.

I look out my front door through the flywire. Not rainy, but not all that sunny either. 

I fetch a jug of water and give my jade bush on the porch a quick drink, with an overflow to my geraniums in the ground below.

Inside, I refill the vase of the sunflower a friend gave me eight days ago. It’s wilting a little. I draw back the curtain further and turn the flower to the light – but this heat-proof house doesn’t let in much sun.

House? It’s a unit. Two bedrooms. Poppi-cat thinks the spare room's hers. When I moved in there during renovations, she was thrilled. Relationship, to her, means togetherness – what better could I possibly have to do? But my nurturing space is my own bedroom. She joins me sometimes. Mostly we have daytime cuddles.

I write. The morning passes. Now a shower before lunch.

Sharing with Writers' Pantry #83 at Poets and Storytellers United.