Sometimes the cat is in the empty chair, sometimes on my lap. But when it is tv time, we are all together settled in, and life is good.
The windows afford a snowy view in storms, give the dog entertainment when squirrels, deer or turkeys cut through. She gives warning to the cat that there is something to attend to or that she is protecting him from the UPS man or the snowplow. And sometimes they both just sit and watch.
I guess this house lends itself to lots of watching. It's a comfortable house. And I will miss it when we move. Our contractor tells us it is now going to be the middle of April when our house in Friendship is done or at least livable and finishable with us in it.
But I will miss this place and the memories it holds in its cedar logs, in each knot that stares at me with soulful eyes. I will miss the feeling of being in a reversed snow globe in winter storms. I will miss the privacy of a front yard where I can go outside in nightgown to stand and look at stars or take the dog out one more time.
Sifting flakes floating
White erasing evidence
Of other seasons