The other day I mentioned that Allie now seems to enjoy our brown blanket. When it gets cold, as it was Saturday, a damp, bitter chill was inescapably everywhere, throughout the day, she decided it’d be OK if I put her under the blanket.
The Black Cat has a hard life, is what we’re saying here.
I managed to tear myself away from other things on Sunday afternoon just as the clouds cleared out and the sun was exposed and the light shift caught the trees. This is a tricky, timed business, particularly this time of year. We don’t have a clear view of sunsets from the yard, but there are a few beautiful moments in the golden hour. So I sit and look out our southern-facing windows and enjoy the dance in the tree line behind us.
Of course I missed the magical moment by about two minutes yesterday.
And how was your weekend?
