Eve, Marc and I are all so very happy to be home! Eve was delighted to nap again in her sweet little bed, to play with her old familiar toys, and seemed to have a great surge of energy for eating and drinking and being her more usual self in the home environment. She did NOT, however, appreciate the washing and detangling of the dredlocks she had begun to develop. (Curls have their price.)
Now, after an opportunity to set things more to rights around the house, I'm feeling the inevitable pull toward pumpkinhood. ~zzzzzzzzzz~
We're really excited about Isaac coming home tomorrow! He sounds like he has had a great time in Tuscaloosa, and we really appreciate all the help from everyone there.
Along with the crazy piles of dishes, crazier piles of laundry, and general pandemonium various curiosities that welcomed us home, there was a possum who seems to have taken up residence on our front porch. I've really never had a chance to look at a possum up that close and calmly (i.e. neither I nor the possum ran away shrieking this time) and was struck at how unusual and beautiful he was. The silvery coat was full of very long, silky white hairs, and the toes were bubblegum pink! But most appealing were the ears, perfect ovals, mottled charcoal and white. Who knew?! He watched me to the mailbox and back, and seemed quite interested in the piles of leaves and empty plant pots, not to mention the rolled up wool rug that intended to go to the cleaner late last week. (I think it's high time that rug get to the cleaner, before it becomes a dedicated possum habitation.)
Some years ago, there was a large possum that Catherine named Scrapper, who roamed in our yard frequently. Then poor Scrapper met an automobile late one night. Almost immediately afterwards there appeared a baby possum (Scrapper's progeny, we suspected) who stayed under the house with Shadow the cat. Shadow was quite territorial, but she made an exception to her usual rules and welcomed the baby possum into her space, sometimes following him around outside with a curious expression. We called the baby "Son of Scrapper" (yes, original, isn't it?) When S-o-S grew to adolescent size, Shadow made a big fuss of kicking him out of her pad.
Anyway... I wonder what generation this front-porch possum might be, and if it belongs to the Scrapper line? It certainly has the fearlessness of those predecessors. By now, this could be a Great-grandscrapper.
Ellie sent a lovely little fluffy unicorn from her own collection to the hospital for Eve. Eve has been absolutely adoring of it, and has named it Dear. Dear had the privilege of blood pressure checks and breathing treatments all morning, and this afternoon was the first to use the at-home inhaler. What a great friend!
Goodnight everyone-- a very good night.
