Also, there are many birds about, and once I've cleaned the window they'll begin flying into it. Though this window is small, and surrounded by a mass of blank wall, birds are not the brightest of nature's creatures and are thus easily misled by the reflection of the afternoon landscape into believing they have clear passage to a patch of garden beyond the apparent opening in the wall. A bit of grime on the glass seems to help their tiny brains grasp the difference between illusion and reality.
If I had a printer, I could print a picture of my cat and stick it in the window, which would probably have the same effect. Then I could clean the window and not worry about stupid birds. But the picture wouldn't keep the rain away. Rain does not fear cats.
I'm short of sleep again today. Somehow I managed to wake shortly before noon, after having actually gotten to sleep before sunrise. This recent instability in my schedule was unexpected, and I'm finding it both interesting and a bit distressing. I have no idea what will happen next. Maybe I'll settle into a new pattern, and maybe I'll just go on sleeping and waking at unexpected hours. I made no journal entry again this morning, either. The change in my sleeping pattern is going to alter everything, I guess.
Little pink flowers all over the peach tree. It's odd to see them in February. Also odd is that the buds on the camellia bush outside my window keep reminding me of the opening animation of Monty Python's Flying Circus. They curl exactly that way. I wonder if they're trying to tell me something?