locore

Mama Violet is now spending the night on the doormat outside the back door that goes into the back porch room. Last night I almost stepped on her, taking out recycling; in fact I had to stand there and call her name to wake her. I could have petted her and lost a hand. She also bled on the doormat during the night; or maybe ate a rat there. When I took out breakfast this morning, it was Prudence on the porch, but when I came back after scrubbing out the water bowls, it was Mama Violet who stood her ground inches away while I put them down (which involves refilling the small one). She did not appear injured or unwell, except that her tail has been messed up for years.

Prudence has gone back to eeking out when she sees me, from confusing me with the filet mignon people, coming over to me as if she wants to be patted on the head, then eeking out.

Monty was back in his sleeping position in the corner of the front garden this morning; he wasn't there yesterday. I'm pretty sure he's eating on the porch; I spotted him through the window once last week.

Mama Violet has found a new place to curl up in the back porch room where it's even harder to see her. This after I returned from a walk to find she'd been on the mat outside the back door, presumably angling for food because she had come back when I re-emerged. Unfortunately Monday is a big day for watering, so I showed her her food dish then put it in an out of the way place while I went to and fro. But she ignored it and went to ground in the new-to-me perching place instead. So I moved it to the normal position when I was finished, and turned out the light.

Of course it's possible she wanted into the house, to evict me and the housemate. No, Mama Violet. No.

Nasturtiums are coming up in the grass in back. At least 4.

Real rain overnight and into mid-afternoon. Not heavy, but a good soaking. Across from the park, the pavement/sidewalk was slippery with squashed avocados.

Monty and Prudence were both on the porch at breakfast time, and Prudence spent much of the day on the cat bed there. Mama Violet stayed curled up on the chair in the recesses of the back porch room. The housemate is now only slightly spooked by her being there, like a dragon on its hoard.

We did in fact get the first rain of the season today. Very patchy, and it failed to shower on me when I took a walk in late afternoon, but it counts.

Found Mama Violet curled up in the back porch room, supplied her with food to loud hissing.

It was quite sunny today, and not cold—until the early evening, when a chilly wind blew in and the flock of little puffy clouds coalesced. I saw Mama Violet out of the corner of my eye taking refuge in the back porch room from the watering.

That "Bus is turning!" alarm must be for other drivers. One did it as it was pulling away from a bus stop; I was walking by on the other side of the street. So it's aural clutter without much hope of being useful. (I pity the folks with bus stops in front of their houses.)

The other day, I was waiting for the light at a busy corner, along with a couple of other pedestrians, when a bus came along and turned in front of us. It was an articulated bus, which is hard enough to get used to away from El Camino, but also as soon as it started to turn it announced very loudly and presumably without human prompting, "Bus is turning! Bus is turning!" It had the light, of course, so I wonder who the intended audience is. Cyclists who would already be under its wheels if the driver hadn't given way to them? The blind, who are less likely than the sighted to step off the kerb before they have the right of way? Anyone standing on the kerb right on the corner, who might get clipped if the driver turned too sharply? But the law's quite clear, turning too sharply and clipping people, or not giving way if a pedestrian did happen to be in the crosswalk, is a major offence, especially for a bus driver, not to mention very bad driving. It's not buses that need those warnings, it's some people's cars. Anyway, it did prove I still have some hearing left. Message received. Bus is turning.

I managed not to water Mama Violet. Took out recycling after dark, looked down, and she was lurking by the trash cans. When I came out with food, she was next to the door, but of course she hissed me out as I put it down. I hope she shares it with her kids. They were both around earlier but made themselves scarce because of the watering ... and the arrival of the new Maine Coon.