The other two ferals in the back yard, Shorty and Ton Ton Macat, had been wise enough to avoid me while I was watering. Shorty had climbed into the walnut tree, from which he enjoyed a good view of the proceedings, and Ton Ton stayed on the porch most of the time, moving only when a bit of porch splashing took place while I watered the adjacent rose bushes. As soon as I'd turned off the water and coiled the hose, those two were back looking for some dinner. Porky has not yet returned, though I'm sure he'll be back to eat before too long. I'm not sure how long it will take him to get over his trauma, but I'm expecting him to be giving me dirty looks for the next couple of days.
I'm ready for my own dinner, which tonight will be pasta. I've got an open jar of sauce that needs to be used up before it goes bad. Day after tomorrow I'm hoping I'll finally remember to bake one of those potatoes. I'd intended to have one last night, and had left myself a note to remind me, but then I impulsively bought those telera rolls on my way home from the chiropractor yesterday, and rolls having a very short shelf life themselves I decided I'd better have one that night, and as I bought them specifically to go with soup that's what I ate. The second one I'll have with soup tomorrow night (never the same meal two nights in a row— I was traumatized by mom's leftovers once too often when I was a kid.) That puts the potato off until Friday, when the weather will be getting warmer again. Can't be helped. The wages of disorganization.
Friday is also the full moon. September's full moon is the Harvest Moon. I have nothing that needs to be harvested, so I won't have to work by its light. I'll just sit on the porch and enjoy watching it rise,