As my friend Ivy reminds me, every place you live has something to complain about and something to delight in. And here? It feels peaceful, quiet, sufficient. Perhaps that's just the contrast, but who can say, late, late on moving day, with tired and aching head? The cats like it, and they are, after all, my little rulers, my little tyrants. When the cats are happy, so goes the neighborhood. The air is fresh, all my stuff is correctly held to floor with gravity, and for the moment I'm content.