Not much to report. Our homestead lives in a constant state of chaos and dishevelment. The benefactor is beginning to question if we have what it takes for individual survival. Summer has bloomed and it is excessively hot, leading to flared tempers and frustration. Everyone seems to react like a struck match, and we are dying for rain to break the spell.
We are deep in preparation for the celebration of life we are hosting this weekend. Every morning our benefactor gives us a list of what we must accomplish, and every day we do not complete it. It is our dance. We are waiting to see how patiently she can ask us to weed the front lawn before it becomes a confrontation. She is unaware of our secret, psychological testing. So far, she has passed.
It is quieter without the younger two, less frantic, yet we miss their constant questioning of authority and useful ability to wear down the benefactor’s will when we are battling for something we deem necessary for our continuance. Tis our greatest weapon. We look forward to their return tomorrow.