It was cold outside last night. Wear-long-sleeves-and-warm-socks-to-bed cold. Duck-your-head- under-the-blankets-and-breathe-through-a-small-opening cold. The total opposite of what it was like two weeks ago.
It typically warms up during the day, so I’m wearing shorts this morning.
We are at that point in the change of seasons when the weather tips the scales back and forth, back and forth in indecision. Until it finally stays registered on the cold side.
These days I seem to go to bed tired and wake up not much rested. Charlie gets up at a minimum of 5 times every night. Sometimes more. He coughs. I give him medicine. Then he wants outside.
He knows there’s another possum hanging around out there. We met up with him/her the other night on the back fence. It froze, as they usually do, and stared at us with it’s beady little eyes.
Some residents ask to have cages put around the property to catch them. (And let them out in the wild.) I say leave them alone. Possums eat all kinds of vermin and snakes and such. I’d rather come face to face with a possum in the dead of night than a snake or a rat.
Possums are nature’s ultimate scavengers and are immune to most snake venom.
Ivy has been into mischief from the moment I got up. I walked down the hall and happened to glance in the dark bathroom. She was in the tub; nothing unusual there.
But it was the look on her face that made me back up. The way she looked at me from the other side of the tub with only her eyes showing.
She was trying to hide the end of the toilet paper roll in the bathtub. Once the light was one, I saw it all over the floor.
I make sure every time I’m in there to tuck the toilet paper in where she can least get to it. But Ivy is stubborn. She WILL find a way.
Now she’s worn herself out and is sprawled out on the glass table next to the couch and my chair. Her eyes are at half mast. One leg is splayed over the couch arm. She is losing the battle and falling asleep.
Heaven only knows what happens in the dark of night around here. I try to get her to sleep with Charlie and me. But no, she wants to be a night owl, chasing shadows and whatever else she does.
Charlie is next to me as usual, his head tilted over the arm of my chair. Ivy is mere inches from him. He’s fine with that. But if she gets too close to him he will snap at her.
Ivy doesn’t run when he snaps at her. She just raises her head a bit, as though this behavior of his is beneath her standards. She stares at him as if to say: I’m a permanent fixture around her, brother dear. I’m not going anywhere, no matter how many times you snap at me like some rabid wild thing.
In other words: Have at it. I’m not afraid of you. And I know you have no teeth.
Oh what would I do without these two munchkins to entertain me? To love me unconditionally and keep me company?
I am so thankful for their presence in this little home of ours. They certainly keep things lively around here.