Detente

O-dark-thirty in the morning.  Yowling, hissing, and feet running up and down the hall.  The cats were at it again.  Celeste and Ralph caught Luna out of her room and were sending her back to confinement.  "And stay there!"  (I did not raise these kids to be bullies.)  Luna, with just three legs, humpity-humps around, but somehow manages to hold her own.  Given the situation, it was a surprise in the afternoon to find Luna firmly ensconced on the loveseat in the round room (now known as Linda's office).  She gave me the Dirty Harry look, the one that says, "Go ahead.  Make my day."  Other than a glimpse as I passed by her bedroom and a couple of times out in the kitchen, I've rarely seen Luna since she arrived.  I approached cautiously, offering the back of my hand for her to sniff, and then she let me pet her.  The cats and Bessie Anne wandered past without incident, so I think we may have reached detente.  Or not.

Helper Dude came yesterday and, like a beaver, started cutting up that huge limb that fell last month.  At fifteen, he really likes to use the chainsaw and, best of all, he likes zooming around on his quad and trailer to move the rounds up to the woodpile.  That wood will have to age for a year, so this is a job he can do whenever he has the time.  I give this young man all kinds of credit.  He has any number of clients for his services and fits them in between his home-schooling work.

My cellphone and my computer are at war.  Somehow, I ended up (none of my doing) with iCloud.  iCloud is holding my photos hostage.  Sometimes it takes days before they show up in my inbox, and sometimes they just get stuck in the cloud.  Sunrise the other morning was spectacular enough to draw me outside at first light, and last night's sunset was breathtaking.  I may or may not get to post them, depending on when and if the electronics reach detente.