MARCH

Well, tomorrow is the first of March. I'm not any farther ahead than I was at the beginning of February. Just the thought of a new month looming is frightening. I need a haircut. My nails are ragged. I have dark circles under my eyes. I'm fat. I hate my clothes. I can't think of anything to cook. The dryer is full. The washer should be full. I'm not reading. I'm writing very little. I can't think.
Other than that, I'm fine.

MAMA AND THE CATS

My cats are driving my mother to distraction. She is just short of wanting them dead. All 4 of the inside cats are used to being held and treated kindly. They wrap themselves around my ankles, curl up on the couch with me, sleep on the foot of my bed, tell me when they are hungry or thirsty, purr whenever I pick them up, love me unconditionally.
They want to love my mother unconditionally. She doesn't want them to love her at all. She doesn't want them to even look at her.
Two of the cats are almost the same color but far from being the same size. Macy is the largest cat and Abby the smallest. Anytime Mama sees either one she asks which one it is and wants to know their names. This happens many times throughout the day and night. Mama calls Macy a fox.
During the night I often hear Mama telling the cats to "get out of here", "go away", I can see her throwing her arms and flapping the quilt all over the bed. The cats will be unfazed. Mama will call for me to come get the fox out of her bed.
Tonight I put Mama to bed, got her all settled, with no cats on the bed. Later I went to check on her and saw something move on the table beside her bed. Looking closer, I saw it was Macy. Quietly, I went to the table and reached for her. She jumped to the headboard of Mama's bed, tiptoed to the other side of the bed, just beyond my reach. I rushed to the other side to grab her but she turned and ran right over Mama's head. Back to the other side I go but Macy bounds onto the bed, touches down on Mama's back, and jumps to the floor. This time I manage to head her toward the door.
Mama has slept through the whole thing. Macy has gone back upstairs. Now I'm wide awake.

BURIAL

I can't sleep. Oh, I will be able to sleep like a baby in the morning. But not tonight. It's 3 am. I should be sound asleep, dreaming, snoring. But, no, I'm wide awake.
Hubby is sleeping, Mama is sleeping, Herbie is sleeping, the cats are sleeping. The sand crab is dead and buried in the yard. Poor thing. He had two burials. Since he belonged to Elizabeth I thought she should be in charge of the services. Leah had other ideas.
I carried the cage to the yard, we chose to bury him between the building and the tree, our woods. Elizabeth got the big shovel and Leah the small one. Elizabeth dug a hole, put in the sand crab and covered him over. Leah dropped her shovel, held her arms straight and stiff by her sides and screamed at the top of the lungs. So Elizabeth dug up the sand crab and filled in the hole. Now Leah dug a hole in the same spot, put in the sand crab, covered him with dirt and leaves. Then we poured his sand on top of his grave, the sand he got on the beach at Perdido Key last July. Poor sand crab rests peacefully in the yard covered with sand. (He froze during the ice storm)

I LOVE MOUNTAINS DAY 2009

On February 17, I attended I Love Mountains Day. Susan and I marched with the group to the capitol to protest mountaintop removal mining.
There are no words for what is happening to our mountains.
I hope there will be less to protest next year.

LISTENING TO THE HOUSE

For 2 weeks and more we have been visited by rain, wind, ice, snow, more ice, no electricity, no heat. Even now, the electricity is spotty. Just when we get comfortable, off it goes again. Last night, I cooked supper by candlelight, yes Jane, cinnamon covered dog turds, the candles, not the supper. Eating supper by candlelight reminded me why I would have never made it as a pioneer. The lights came back on as we were finishing our supper. Then off again, on again, off again, this time while hubby was in the shower. I found the flashlight and took him a book light, clipping it on the hook on the back of the door, book lights save us in many ways.

During the quiet of a power failure it is easy to hear things usually masked by the sounds of electricity and it's noise.

The 8th step on the staircase creaks differently than the other 29. It gives a bit more. I know what the wood underneath the carpet looks like and I wish I could feel it with my bare foot. I know the steps are worn lower in the center due to almost 100 years of footfalls. It was us that covered them with carpet. Sorry stairs. The banister is worn smooth from hands holding on in fear of falling. Banister, you can thank us for not painting you. The two landings are home to a geode and a quilt rack. The cats are fond of the carpeted stairs. They keep warm there on many a cold night.

The house settles, creaks, rattles, sighs, coughs, listens, cries, laughs, comforts. It comforts me a lot.

ICE

I have lots of ice stories but they are so much less severe than so many others that they aren't worth telling. 

The worst thing I did was let the sand crab freeze to death. Poor thing. He belonged to Elizabeth, he came from Florida. He will have to be replaced when we go in July. The funeral will be soon.

We are going home today, the power has returned and the house is warm.