November Nuisances

Progress on clearing my space has been greatly hampered by the time of year. Perhaps I should rephrase that. Evidence…of my progress is elusive, thanks to (1) the annual END of daylight saving time, (2) the pending arrival of sweater weather and (3) a Facebook meme that motivated a detour.

Though the sun rises and sets with the same regularity it always has, our societal clocks have been fiddled with. My biological clock is basically unaffected, but I can’t say the same for my routines since the world doesn’t function according to T. Lee’s rhythms.

In my current experience, the creatures most upset by the fall-back shenanigans are my cats. Good-morning texts have signaled the first of two feedings for months. They arrive with amazing accuracy. I, however, cannot ignore the battle zone the house becomes as the kitties get rowdier and louder when it seems to them the signal is late. Since November 5, I have consistently caved and doled out their rations pre-text, then removed obstructions they created as I head back to the comfort of my pillow or the glow of my laptop. I quickly abandoned the idea of helping them reset their internal clocks in ten-minute steps; the house might crumble.

Advancing sweater weather creates a ruckus among the four-footed tribe, too. In anticipation of turning the heat on, furniture is rearranged to allow freeflow from the heat vents. That also entails cleaning and sweeping. Stuff I actually have places for stays out of place for a day or two while all that is going on. The felines get feisty when I put obstructions in THEIR running, jumping and perching patterns, so you’d think they’d have a bit more empathy and reconsider scaling back their morning zombie antics that knock over brooms and push books from shelves, but no.

I have put up a roadblock or two for those zoomies, thanks to a friend sharing a post on social media about being an old lady. (My turn to share, though impossible so far to find the creator). I’m embracing it wholeheartedly. “I want to be one of those women with a house full of potted plants and weird rocks and crystals and a cluttered garden, who just looks after her animals and paints and minds her own business with crazy hair.”

Some of my most intriguing outside rocks now have homes on bookshelves along with cherished ones from little boys who stole my heart. The confused cats are sharing window sills with flower pots too heavy to nudge. The furry speed demons are re-routing zoomies trails around a couple of huge plant bins. Once in a while they sit staring at them. They either don’t like coleuses and basil trees - or they are plotting. Game on.

In the meantime, to complete the quote, “I’ll go visit my friends to have tea and they’ll be happy, too.”