Lora is out of work. There are no kids to see off to school in the street below the patio. Only the occasional cat to shout down
It's Holy Week and Lora knows cats are not Holy but worth raising Holy hell about. So, the Monday after springing forward an hour, no one got any extra sleep because of cats. The cabs weren't running at 6:45, the kids weren't out, but the gendarme of cats was at her post, howling away.
Her mom is embarrassed and issues an apology to all the neighbors who have kept me up nights with their midweek fiestas on what one would think would not happen on a school night.
Yes, it's Semana Santa. But to Lora, cats are not holy and there's nothing I can do about it but water the pickle plants.