Come To My Window

Monday is a day when I often work at home. It's great to sort of ease back into the work week that way. I don't have to get up early, get dressed in work clothes, or drive anywhere.

When I went to bed Sunday night, the weather dudes were calling for some possible nasty weather overnight, maybe freezing rain or ice for the late hours of Sunday into early Monday. I was glad that my plans to work at home coincided with such a day. No worries about travel!

The front steps and drive way were icy when I got up Monday morning, but eventually the temperatures rose and we were left with just rain. Then in the afternoon, the skies cleared out and we even got some sunshine, hooray!

This is the main window in the master bedroom of our house, with a view of the side yard facing my butterfly garden and the meadow. This room is where I usually set up a little computer desk and chair for working at home.

Dexter the Tabby sometimes enjoys looking out this window into the yard. To get to the view, he has to tromp across the stuffed animals that are displayed on top of the Lane cedar chest (or "hope chest," as we girls more frequently called such things) that my parents bought me for my college graduation oh so many years ago.

My husband called me one morning last week just as I arrived at work, to tell me about the deer that he and Dexter had been watching in our yard. He reported five deer who were hanging out, snacking on a little of this, a little of that.

Two were smaller, fuzzier; yearlings? My husband picked up the Tabby and took him from window to window to watch. Deer activities included a full spit-bath by the mom to one of the littler ones (including the INSIDES of its floofy ears, much to its protests).

The Tabby's response? Great interest, and loud purring! And after the deer had gone, running from window to window (in a scene perhaps not unlike this one), putting soft white paws on the windowsills, keeping watch for the deer . . .

And a song to accompany this picture? Melissa Etheridge, Come To My Window . . .