This afternoon I am home alone. By my side, a container of Lysol wipes.
My Doctor says I do indeed have pink eye, and a cold. I am "extremely contagious." Sexy, no? I am moving through my day touching stuff, and then wiping.
I laid down on my bed this afternoon. My room faces the alley behind our house, and gets the afternoon sun.
I gather Pumpkin (orange) and Pepita (mostly black) have an afternoon routine which involves perching on my window sill, in the sun, side-by-side with identical posture. They look like a study in color: how the winter sun can look both golden and grey, especially when refracted through cat fur in orange and black.
It appears the two of them also guard the yard, for their window-sill-sitting involves a hefty portion of growling at things in the alley . . . "things" like the U-Haul van that idled in the alley for 20 minutes or so while both cats made themselves ferocious at it (Dog meanwhile was asleep and snoring).