I live a quiet life with Ivy.
In the summertime here, with the oppressive heat, I close the blinds and curtains against the sun, making it kind of dark inside. If I don’t, the thermostat will slowly crawl up.
So I sit in the darkened apartment, grateful for the coolness.
I find I’m happy staying home. The world has been so crazy the past year and a half that I don’t want to be out and about.
To mask or not mask, socially distance or not socially distance, all now fraught with anger.
My car is almost 16 years old, so staying home means I’m not putting more miles on it. I won’t have to have car maintenance as often. Or pay for gas very often.
My gas tank has sat at just over three quarters of a tank for well over a month.
Many people can’t handle staying home. But I’ve always been a homebody. There is nowhere else I’d rather be than in my apartment with Ivy.
I never get bored. There is so much to do. I work on this blog, I watch British TV, read books. Gaze out at my patio and tend to my house plants. I often play fetch with Ivy.
Kind of hot to be out on the patio unless I’m watering the containers in the evening. Changing the water in the bird bath daily. In the cooler weather I will enjoy it again.
Though I live in a one bedroom apartment, I don’t feel stifled from the lack of space. I’ve always preferred small spaces. It’s almost like I feel safest wrapping this small home around me, snug in its embrace.
I’ll be repotting the house plants that spent the summer outside and bringing them inside soon. I’m waiting until it cools off a bit.
Ivy and I are perfect companions. I need her and she needs me. Well, as much as a cat needs anyone. We have a schedule we follow, a routine we live by. I enjoy her antics and gaze at her with a solid and immutable love.
I miss Charlie so much. So very, very much. I miss him in the passenger seat staring ahead as though he’s a person. And I miss him snuggling against me here in my chair.
Grief is like a bitter pill I have to swallow every morning when I wake up and realize he’s gone. Tears rush into my eyes because I’ll never pet his soft sweet head again. Or see his love for me shining in his brown eyes.
I still can’t write about him without crying.
I feel sorry for the people being evicted from their homes, the homeless wandering the streets in this awful heat. Often with their dog sitting atop their grocery cart belongings.
The world can be such a cruel place for those with little to get them by.
I donate to places needing food for pets. And I keep my memories of my Charlie boy close.
Life goes on. One step at a time.
“Sometimes, you need to be alone. Not to be lonely, but to enjoy your free time being yourself.” – Author Unknown