Kak

So yesterday I joked about how ticked off I'd be if Portia regurgitated the bird she'd eaten in the house. The joke turned out to be on me, and the ex-bird turned up on the carpet. The best thing about the feral cats is that they never come in the house and chunder. But then they don't curl up next to me and purr me to sleep, either.

It's breezy tonight. I'm going to go out and listen to it. There won't be much to see because the clouds have turned dense again and occluded the moon, but that will just make the rustling of leaves all the more enjoyable.