« Hump Day »

My new habit is 'courtyard contemplating'. 

It's when I stare out my living room window, daydreaming - maybe even drooling a lil bit - sucked up, out and away by the sway of all the the palm fronds, some spiky some fluffy, every one of them dancing to the same subtle, quiet energy.  I don't know where exactly I go off to, but when I come back to reality, I'm gazing out onto the courtyard of my building, reconnecting with the present day.

Wednesday, November third.  Two thousand ten.  Thirty-two and a half.  Miami Beach.

Crazy how my body just knows that it's now winter where I used to live.  Like a phantom limb haunting an amputee, chilled breezes from the cities of my past make their way down south to tickle my neck as I'm walking through the house, and I totally believe for a second that it's 50 degrees outside. And I get excited about wearing my scarves, my pirate boots, even my grandma sweater that everyone makes the 'ew' face at but I love because it's like bringing a warm hug with me on photo walk-abouts.  Besides, I am not one to chase the male gaze.  The grandma sweater is not only a comfortable accessory, it's an amazing tool of deflection.  There is a method to the madness, people.

Alas, there is no winter in Miami.  Which has its benefits of course.  I'm free to OD on vitamin D whenever I am so inclined.

This morning I opened a few windows to let the breeze in before the temperature gets up to the expected eighty-five degrees.  Aside from the occasional company of squawking wild parrots making me grab the remote to turn down the tv/music because I thought I was hearing a baby screaming, open windows are 'the best'.  The cats love perching in the huge window sills, watching the birds, lizards, the other outside cats belonging to the neighbors. My fourteen-year old cat, Kaia, worked herself into a tizzy when the slinky cross-eyed tabby from next door decided to loiter on our little sliver of a front porch.  Kaia's tail was puffed out a bit, but there was no smack-talking going on, so I returned my attention to my writing. 

Suddenly I heard a ruckus of claws on wood and flimsy aluminum ricocheting off concrete.  I looked up to see the window wide open, screen gone, and the tail end of my cat as she hopped out the window.  I panicked!  I flew off the couch and across the room toward the front door but as I stepped onto the tile from the area rug my foot slipped right out from under me and I went down, hard.  I hurried to get up but then fumbled with the lock on the door as images of my elderly, declawed cat getting shredded to pieces by the wonky-eyed Dr. Evil street cat flashed in my mind.  By the time I got out the front door she had come to her senses and hopped back inside the window.  I replaced the screen, caught my breath and rubbed the elbow that caught my fall.  Effin' cats.