Urbanity

I awoke to the sound of thunder! An unexpected and pleasant contrast to the loud mufflers and sirens.

I assess the day through the kitchen window. The large locust tree across the way is the barometer of Fall. The cantaloupe seeds drying by the window contain my hope I'll be here in the Spring. The box with its yellow lid (outside) contains an assortment of BDSM toys -- ropes and such. It rode up front on the roof so when we passed through checkpoints I could say, "Wellllll, this one's full of BDSM stuff "...and I'd offer to let 'em see. None ever took me up on it. 🥸 I hope to find a recipient one of these days.

At my behest, we stopped mowing. It invites mice for the cat and once a hawk settled for awhile to dine on a pigeon it had taken. For a while there was a squirrel. It's a small way of keeping a measure of wildness nearby. Michelle says there are over 8 species of grass.

I've started bringing in a few things. Kristen's *Seated Nude* has been a major help. The white lump at the end of the bed is the down quilt from Canada she gave me for Solstice in 2020. It has a large coffee stain that unequivocally declares it's mine.

In the bookcase are reminders to the otherwise fading memories. The green Rosenthal plate that I dropped earlier this year I glued together using thinned Elmer's -- as my karate instructor advised. When he first moved to Albuquerque he worked with a restorer of fine antiques. He used Elmer's.

Mom's fav color was green. Her china collection was in a buffet cabinet along with her Japanese doll and other treasures. When she died I sent the rest to my brother in Texas. 

Next to the plate is a copy of The *Velveteen Rabbit.* 

On the shelf above is Kristen's Valentine card, a couple of iconic carrots (prime motivators) and stuffed animals from Michelle. So much love!!!

The urban wasteland. I'm grateful for indoor plumbing and a place to keep the stuff.

We had a nice rain. The three houses to the east are owned by a slumlord. The one next door often seems to be a halfway house / brothel / drug dealers lair. Fortunately, the last few sets have been quiet...mostly. 

The Sandia Mountains, increasingly obscured by multi-storied apartments, provide a marker to the passing of time as the sun crests their horizon from a different spot each day.

We've done what we could. The cholla, chamisa, apache plume, russian sage, spanish bayonet and big sage,   provides safe haven and nesting for families of thrashers and roadrunners. 

Out in the triangular area next to the sidewalk are some of the cantaloupe vines that did so well.

Neighbor Harvesting a cantaloupe. Ziggy, the dog, alerts everyone.