Purr

Falling asleep at the desk, Mishka asleep by my right arm, a paw over her eyes.

I am beginning to prepare for the trip back East. Firs of all, I ascertained from my ophthalmologist that it is okay to fly, it is okay to wait for the outpatient surgery she is prescribing, and it is a wonderful idea to try to get a second opinion in Philadelphia from Wills Eye Hospital.

There is a gallon of turkey bone-mushroom-barley soup in the refrigerator. I had a bowl of it tonight; very very filling.

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It is always a great shift of mind when I begin to think of travel, of packing (lightly), of making sure all is taken care of while I am gone to what feels like another world entirely. I will be glad to see my relatives---some are my mother's generation, some my own. Then there are the many children and grandchildren, most of whom I do not know. There are also friends, old and new. Some I have known since high school; some since I returned from Israel. It is the place I lived when I first fell in love. (I did not know I was in love; my mother knew it.)

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I have just fallen asleep at the keyboard: a definite hint that it's time to go upstairs. Mishka has stopped washing my hand and is really sleeping herself, giving out those deeply-contented-cat vibes.

I will close up and do the same.

G'night.