Critters and sirens.

I’m home today with a VERY stiff, sore neck and shoulder. I’m not sure what caused it besides “sleeping funny.” Only it isn’t funny, it really aches. I think I made it worse this morning while trying to gently stretch the muscles. Now I can barely look left or right without wincing, so I’m heading off to a local massage therapist to see if she can work out this unpleasant kink.

Being home makes me the lucky center of attention from all our critters. Mr. Sass, who normally insists on sleeping squarely on a lap, makes do when there is a laptop on said lap by snuggling as closely as he can.
Mr Sass snoozes
I tried getting a picture of Piper sleeping a mere 12 inches from Mr. Sass on the couch, but alas she hopped off the couch and followed me into the family room when I tried sneaking in there to get the camera. Here she is instead posing next to my partially finished Corsage in Bloom. I just completed the aqua ruffled flower and am ready to proceed to a minty blue rosette.
Piper poses with corsage
Molly visits occasionally, sitting on the coffee table in the warm spot left by my laptop.
Miss Molly
And Lilly lounges nearby on Kenny's easy chair.
Lilly lounges
I could get used to this working-at-home thing!

Because I was home, I got to take Piper for a walk right around mid-morning. In fact, the clocks must have struck 10:00 precisely on this first Tuesday of the month because suddenly the eerie wooOOOOing of
civil defense sirens arose all around us. It was a bit chilling to hear them live, so many sirens all layered in varying ominous tones, fading in and fading out. After years of hearing them somewhat muffled from within the walls of my school or the buildings where I work, I felt for the first time the sense of urgency those loud sirens evoke. For a few moments I tried to imagine being in World War II London during The Blitz where they sounded nightly for months to warn of German bomb attacks. What an awful time that was -- such terror and destruction, resulting in the deaths of 43,000 civilians all over England.
I can’t imagine trying to cope on a day-to-day basis if our city was being bombed at night, and by day we still had to work, shop, get the kids to school, etc.
I hope we never find ourselves hearing those sirens in earnest, or sleeping in shelters or subway stations to stay safe until danger passes. May the worst reason they ring, at least here in Evanston, is to alert us that it’s time to relocate our cars to make way for snow plows.

Remember snow?