Meine Mutti is napping. Meine Mutti naps a lot. And sleeps for long long times. Meine Mutti is so tiny and tall you can just about see right through her. She is like a long stick of light. Every time I see her I become more frightened. She sleeps more and weighs less each time.

I forgot this experience of watchfulness. I must constantly be on the lookout for obstacles that will get in her way--keep the dog down, the floor picked up, the furniture in easy reach. Outside, I must always look out for everyone else who is not looking out. People are careless and thoughtless I realize when I'm around her. Not intentionally, but she must always worry about people not moving out of her way on the sidewalks, people wanting to shake her hand (which feels like breaking when shaken). She fell down on Friday night and she is still recovering from that spill. I must learn to walk slowly again to walk at her side.

But in her head she seems well. We've had long rambling conversations since the moment she stepped off the plane. She naps and wakes up mid-thought, the long conversation still happening in her head. Sometimes it takes a bit for me to catch up--her brain is faster than most any I've known.

Miss Blue has become downright extraverted in her presence, because my mumma has strange effects on cats. They know she is one of them, I think. The cat god.

I am calm with her here. There is so much time in the day while she is here with me. When she wakes up we are going on a hunt for locally grown vegetables. And to the bookstore. Yippeecayay, I love a beautiful day of mom and cats and Bash and books and vegetables. Don't you?