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FRIDAY MORNING
July 8, 2005
 
Why don't you go out the front door today? I said to What's-Her-Name and Noodle as they stood at the back door after breakfast, staring out at the rain. You can stay under cover on the porch.

Neither spoke and neither moved. C'mon, girls! I called gaily several times as I made my way to the front of the house, Let's go out this door!, and made a great deal of enthusiastic noise opening the front door, so they'd get the idea. Cats are creatures of habit when it comes to entering and leaving places, and the front door isn't their door. But eventually they scampered into view and out onto the porch. Noodle remained there, looking out at the rain, but What's-Her-Name bounded down the steps and into the garden in the rain, seeking the perfect place to answer nature's call. It turned out to be under the redbud tree, just east of a clump of foxglove.

Now both are inside again, selecting spots for the morning nap. Cats sleep about sixteen hours a day, more on a rainy day like this one, so the choice of a spot is important: they're going to be there a while. Finding the place for the morning nap can be annoying: they're up early, and most of the humans in the house are still in their beds, monopolizing all the best nap sites. Don't you people work? What's-Her-Name asks us silently -- not that she's ever done an honest day's work in her life. Don't you have somewhere to go in the car?

We do not, thanks be to God. We have nowhere to go in the car today. We can stay here all day long, working by lamplight, in the middle of the dark day, as the rain falls steadily on the roof. Even former colleagues, still at work, arrive from the wet outside with lighter hearts than usual today: it is Friday, and tomorrow there will be a welcome break in the routine. They won't be up at five tomorrow morning, although force of habit will rouse many of them at six. But, after a glance at the clock, they will stretch luxuriously and close their eyes again. They will turn to their favorite radio program. They will turn toward their spouses and see if an early morning kiss might not lead to other things. They will think of a special breakfast. Or they will have been long gone: already fishing in a light morning rain.

What homely splendor life affords -- what deliciousness. What a treasure each hour, and how quickly they pass. Have a hopeful day, and a lovely weekend.
Copyright © 2018 Barbara Crafton
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