We’re surrounded by cold. Two days of school this week. The air cuts.
The cats have wholly given themselves over to this season, indolently lying on blankets, nestled in cardboard boxes and the laundry basket, wrapped in each other, luxurious in their fur and the warm house.
At ease. Peaceful. Marvelously content, sweet little beings.
Meanwhile, I read Rebecca Solnit’s The Mother of All Questions.
We need to stop telling the story about the woman who stayed home, passive and dependent, waiting for her man. She wasn’t sitting around waiting. She was busy. She still is.