Woke to dense fog. Every sign of a perfect day behind it. Yesterday was cloudy on and off all day. It rained in the night. Granny and Beloved had not slept well after a dispute and this overhung everything, though it was pretty much cleared up by lunchtime. Unlike the weather.
All such disputes territorial: taking and giving of space against not taking/not giving. Inevitable I suppose - two longish-lived people coming together with totally different patterns and different expectations of what the other owes, or doesn't owe, them. All of it coming up hard against insecurities dating back to childhood. (Beloved doesn't agree with this; prefers to see us much more in control of our actions, our fates. Or rather prefers to see himself that way. He's wrong.) Exhausting just the same.
Today German Actionman is coming to fix the door between sitting-room and dining-room. Meaning I've some hope - at last - of keeping the cat off the sitting-room covers and in at night. Even Beloved should manage to shut one of the then 3 doors between feline and freedom behind him! My cat's job is to pursue mice in the house rather than mice and lizards - let alone birds - on the land.
Handsome wants to cut down self-seeded solanium? tree in front. A weed he says. The said 'weed' supports a whole flock of sparrows...so up yours, says Granny, though not quite so directly to Handsome's handsome face - he's surprisingly disconcerted by her command of the vernacular. Nice ladies - particularly ageing ones - don't know, let alone use words like that, surely? Ha ha, says Granny (who even knows some of them in Spanish. Even yells them at the hunters, when necessary.) The sun is coming out. Granny p