Clouds cover the stars, but the cats go out.
I posted the definition for borderline personality disorder yesterday to show what a complex thing it is to keep a friend through my time with this. The visit is over, and it ran smoothly because Dark Star and Schrodinger are sterling people who excel at communication. And they love me, and I, them.
It has rained for two days, and the green grass silvers with it. The cats go out and stare miserably at the water and mist coming out of the grey sky. But the new chrysanthemum, dark burgundy, blooms and soaks the mist in. The hyacinth which has been threatening to bloom for quite a while, now has a blue bloom, and the pink, purple, and white impatiens underneath. Somewhere hidden under the broad leaves, is an angel that stood in my Mother's garden.
The zinnia shelter the two clay garden cats that she gave me. My life shivers, and settles back into normal. Whatever.
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