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| An Old Sweater Is Prime Real Estate |
I've not written since last year. It occurs to me to write and I do take photos, but life is busy and the changes in our lives are more subtle. Glenwood has not settled down, for example, so describing the objects she knocks down or whacks to get my attention makes for repetitive writing (and reading), as do the wee-hour wake-up calls. Perhaps what's changed is how I react. At 4 am I admonish her less and instead pick her up and carry her back to bed. Sometimes that's all she wants.
We had a high-drama moment when I had family over during the holidays. As we sat in the living room talking, I noticed Glenwood's absence felt deeper than usual. (She always hides when people are here and bullies when people aren't.) I finally put everyone in search mode. She had wedged herself between the fridge and the wall, and my brother had to pull the fridge out to free her.
There was another, when several contractors were in my home. Glenwood started tearing through the apartment, back and forth, unable to get to any of her safe spots because each room had big strange men in it. It was heart-breaking; she ended up on top of the kitchen cabinets, breathing hard and her eyes wild.
Another reason I've been ambivalent about writing is that stories end. A book, an essay, an article ends, and it's the natural course of things. It feels like abandonment to stop this blog, yet it's also fair to think the story of Glenwood's rescue, survival, and current life is complete. So perhaps now I will post the occasional epilogue.
