Actually, I don't think my neighbors will care much at all. But. If they do notice, they may scratch their heads and wonder what their crazy neighbor Becs is up to. Dare we hope that she is selling her house and moving?
No.
There will be a great deal of activity, relatively speaking, inside and outside of ma maisonette. There will be masons. There will be handymen. There will be Diego. There will be pressure washing. (I love pressure washing.) There will be heavy pruning of the trees in the front yard. There will also be a big trash pick up by the township from my front yard as the Big Chair goes out.
I never realized before that some of this stuff doesn't really cost that much. I think the mason will be the most expensive and no, sorry, I'm only going for repair and not replacement of the problematic porches.
Inside the house, the house I'm ashamed of, things are changing. Yesterday I set the timer for half an hour to de-clutter the worst corner of the kitchen. It took me a little over twenty minutes and that was truly dealing with stuff, not just cramming it into a closets. This give me hope, which is a thing rarely seen around here.
Today, I'm going out and about. There's only so much home and needy cats that I can take.
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Oh - I think I figured out something about the outside cats.
I've thought this before, but I haven't seen Sam in four days, which is rare for him. The jury is still out, he might come shambling back up, but I think I won't be seeing Sam again.
About a block from my house are some woods, not enough woods to call it a forest, connected with a school. I think there's a colony of feral cats living there. If I can do trap, neuter, release, I will. But once again, my optimism fails me.
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