Kitteh
This is sappy and silly and if you aren't interested, skip to the end in which I review the latest book from my favourite author.
Her name is Bette. She is small (will always be a small cat) and calico and she was curled up on my legs but just came up to my face to lick my nose and stick her nose in my eyeball. While purring. She keeps me up at night (around 4 am she gets really excited by the sun maybe coming up in another four hours!! and needs to announce it by sitting on my face and purring. Loudly.) and screams if I lock her in the bedroom, but won't let me eat in peace if I don't, needs constant attention and occasionally thinks that boxing with blind kitteh is good sport. She loves the taste of my moisturiser and did I mention that she needs. Attention. Constantly.
She's small and soft and furry and cute and so full of love. Sometimes it just makes me ache; how trusting and loving she is. How much she's changing and growing and becoming herself. I hate leaving the apartment; I love coming home to her. Her little snub nose and a paw under the door as she cries for me to come get her...
She's just kind of perfect. She curls up to sleep and sometimes you can't figure out where she begins and ends and then when she wakes up and comes over to be picked up, she's so soft and warm all over and she'll curl up on my arm or shoulder and heat up half of me and she looks at me with these big blinky eyes with big dark pupils and sleepy-smiles at me.
We got her when she was eight weeks (give or take) and now she's about six months. I haven't gotten to watch an animal grow and become mine like this since I left England and then it was always my mother taking care of them. This one? She fulfills a need in me. One I didn't even really know I had.
And I certainly don't own her. She pets my face sometimes. Seriously, I pick her up and she responds by petting me on the face. She's just beginning to figure out how to get down from the top shelf of the bookcase, so I can't even put her there for safe-keeping while I eat anymore.
My arms ache when she isn't in them.
Rambling over. Moving on. I just finished Territory by Emma Bull.
It's brilliant. It's so amazing. It's everything I loved about War For The Oaks (still possibly my favourite book) plus more. More maturity and depth and a completely different subject. This is a fantasy western like nothing before and it's gorgeous. There're precious few "good" guys and even fewer plain ol' "bad" guys. There're just stunningly complex and strong characters that you can't help but admire, love and be swept along with. (Sorry, with whom...) I found myself rooting for pretty much everyone at different points in the book and equally (with only a couple of exceptions) rooting against almost everyone too.
Brilliantly crafted and leaving me panting for the next one.
Plus? There's a kinda-sequel to come. Need. It. Now.
Now to go wrassle a jacket potato into submission. (I wrassled it into submission, but now kitten is screaming from the bedroom because I didn't make her one too.)
Her name is Bette. She is small (will always be a small cat) and calico and she was curled up on my legs but just came up to my face to lick my nose and stick her nose in my eyeball. While purring. She keeps me up at night (around 4 am she gets really excited by the sun maybe coming up in another four hours!! and needs to announce it by sitting on my face and purring. Loudly.) and screams if I lock her in the bedroom, but won't let me eat in peace if I don't, needs constant attention and occasionally thinks that boxing with blind kitteh is good sport. She loves the taste of my moisturiser and did I mention that she needs. Attention. Constantly.
She's small and soft and furry and cute and so full of love. Sometimes it just makes me ache; how trusting and loving she is. How much she's changing and growing and becoming herself. I hate leaving the apartment; I love coming home to her. Her little snub nose and a paw under the door as she cries for me to come get her...
She's just kind of perfect. She curls up to sleep and sometimes you can't figure out where she begins and ends and then when she wakes up and comes over to be picked up, she's so soft and warm all over and she'll curl up on my arm or shoulder and heat up half of me and she looks at me with these big blinky eyes with big dark pupils and sleepy-smiles at me.
We got her when she was eight weeks (give or take) and now she's about six months. I haven't gotten to watch an animal grow and become mine like this since I left England and then it was always my mother taking care of them. This one? She fulfills a need in me. One I didn't even really know I had.
And I certainly don't own her. She pets my face sometimes. Seriously, I pick her up and she responds by petting me on the face. She's just beginning to figure out how to get down from the top shelf of the bookcase, so I can't even put her there for safe-keeping while I eat anymore.
My arms ache when she isn't in them.
Rambling over. Moving on. I just finished Territory by Emma Bull.
It's brilliant. It's so amazing. It's everything I loved about War For The Oaks (still possibly my favourite book) plus more. More maturity and depth and a completely different subject. This is a fantasy western like nothing before and it's gorgeous. There're precious few "good" guys and even fewer plain ol' "bad" guys. There're just stunningly complex and strong characters that you can't help but admire, love and be swept along with. (Sorry, with whom...) I found myself rooting for pretty much everyone at different points in the book and equally (with only a couple of exceptions) rooting against almost everyone too.
Brilliantly crafted and leaving me panting for the next one.
Plus? There's a kinda-sequel to come. Need. It. Now.
Now to go wrassle a jacket potato into submission. (I wrassled it into submission, but now kitten is screaming from the bedroom because I didn't make her one too.)