Chilly start to the day - 17 degrees. Fed everyone and read The Mote in God's Eye for a few minutes before Bandit asked to go O U T. I called Kiki when I set the for the little ferals, so I shouldn't have been surprised to see him on the front porch. Grabbed a can of food for him and he was just finishing up when Bandit and I got back from doo-doo duty.
Walked in the house and could smell that the coffee was going to taste weak. That reminded me of Gran. She always made her coffee in a percolator. It tasted fine when I was a teen, but after being out in the world it tasted really, really weak. I can picture her kitchen like I was standing there. The copper jello molds above avocado green cupboards with strawberry patterned contact paper inlaid in the center. Woven baskets hanging from the ceiling. The faded pink spice containers and the strawberry shaped cookie jar. Cookbooks lined up on one side of the countertop; canisters on the other. Toaster oven. Microwave. Her big kitchen table with the strawberry tablecloth; a pink stoneware lazy Susan in the middle. A radio atop the fridge with a basket to hold her double deck of cards that she played solitairre with every morning.
You could say I miss her.
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