||[Dec. 8th, 2018|09:49 pm]
Various things intervened and we were unable to go see the rubble of my house today. The trip is tentatively rescheduled for tomorrow, so I get to spend another restless night worrying about what I will find there. Dead cats? Live cats I'll be unable to bring down here with me? No trace of cats? All the options seem bad.|
All but me in this house have been asleep for an hour. It feels much later than it is. My brother keeps this house a good six degrees warmer than I kept mine, so when I go outside it feels much colder than it is, and it is pretty cold out there. Chico is noisy. There is traffic on the freeway a block away, and on nearby streets. Saturday night, and the college kids are probably out having fun. I can barely remember what that's like. It's as though fun was one of the things that got burned up in the fire.
I spent more time looking at pictures of cats on the Internet again today. All the animals from the Chico shelter have been moved to the shelter in Oroville, further reducing the odds that I'll get a chance to go see them. Today was one month since the fire. It seems both longer and shorter. Physically I feel like I've aged at least a year. Psychologically it feels like I fell asleep on the couch with three cats around me just last night.
It's noisy and cold in Chico, and it is also brightly lit. I think about standing in my back yard on the ridge looking up at the stars. I see no stars at all when I go out here. Perhaps nature is hiding its face from me in shame.