There is a shady patch underneath a banksia plant. There, a cat lies at peace. She used to hang out there when she was alive, trying to hypnotise the birds down so she could 'play' with them. It's the best place for her to rest, now.
Beloved and Mayhem were kind enough to squirrel away the feline accessories so I wouldn't have to. And I thank them for that mercy.
I'm still sad about it. I expect to be randomly crying about it for quite a while yet.
I was author and witness to her last instants alive. And that feels horrible. So of course my traitor mind replays it for me so I can savour that horrible feeling. Thanks, brain. I never needed that, brain. Fuck off and shut up, brain.
Keeping myself distracted seems to help. It keeps my mind on other things that need to be done. Instead of the horrible necessity that is now and forever over.
And there's lots to be done. Thanks to the mammoth unfuckening, there's now another mountain of laundry to erode, one basket at a time. And we have some sunny days to enjoy before monsoon season sets in.
I'm doing all the clothing items first. We need clothing more than we need blankets, what with Summer fast approaching.
I still have to go through ALL the cupboards, but things are a heck of a lot better with only enough tableware for each of us. The rest of the minimising can take its sweet time.
Of course, floor cleaning will be so easier when I get a new battery for the Scooba, known in the household as "Rover". That's an expense that can wait a little while. I'm going to mop out the bathroom when I get up to check on the laundry. And possibly scrub a few things in passing.
And write in-between all of that nonse.
And when it is finally down to minimum maintenance, I can get used to doing that as I go through my day. Seems a long way off, right now.
Just like feeling 'okay' without forcing it.