February 4, 2007
what I'm thinking and doing § what I'm listening to § what I'm reading
what I'm writing § retrospective: old journal
You know, of course, that the world is now all about kittens, right?
In kitten news, the names Atia for the girl (Atia Cattia, the Cloud Princess) and Titus (Titus Fallover, because he does) seem to have stuck.
They were allowed out of Jim's study for the first time Wednesday night and romped and played, enjoying having more space to RACE across, while Sophia growled and hissed and ran downstairs to safety then crept back up to see what they were up to (growl hiss). Once they were safely back in their room, she came back through the door to downstairs and pretended nothing had happened.
They have been out for a while every day since, and have explored the whole house, including every favourite spot of Sophia's. Oops. They spent most of today out. Sophia still hisses and growls, and will give them a swat when they are foolish enough to get in range. Only occasionally has she pursued them, so I have hopes that she'll get used to them. One time they were out she slept through it, safely under cover on a chair where they didn't notice her. At first they wanted to get to know her better, but now they've mostly decided that discretion is a better course of action.
Titus is our special needs boy, and has a little head tremor when he gets
excited because the first people who found him (the ones who gave him to the shelter we got him from) didn't know that small kittens shouldn't have flea poison. He's a total sweetie with a purr three times larger than he is. Friday I found his favourite toy, some feathers on a stick that have him leaping high into the air, doing twists and gymnastic moves. He drags it around, too, despite its long stick. He's a no-holds-barred kind of beast and really throws himself into things. He has trouble remembering that Sophia doesn't want to play with them.
The day after I first let them out, he ran out when I went in to give them their lunch, but I caught him easily as he cheerfully ran back from my study, happy as a bean. So chipper! His whole expression was "Wow, what a great day! I feel terrific! What a cool house!" I felt mean putting him back in the study.
Atia is more thoughtful, moody and independent (another calico, oh dear) but far more approachable than Sophia is and likes lot of attention. She's a talker. When she wants to be petted, she'll talk and walk and weave about. Rub against you, stretch away, move here, move there. More than anything she loves to run. She likes toys dragged along the floor and will chase them back and forth until her little sides move like bellows. Her fur is soft as a cloud, and she's almost as elusive to touch when she wants to be, so I've taken to calling her our Cloud Princess. We got her to sit on our postal scale for a second (Titus wouldn't sit still) and found out she only weighs two pounds eleven ounces. She's trying to think of ways to approach Sophia, but is getting a little frustrated. She is also a brave explorer of the house, leaving no corner unknown.
|Titus leaps again, this time showing the spotted belly. I'm so grateful for electronic cameras because it took us a lot of tries to get these shots.
|Atia softens Titus up for a nap. She likes to knead his back to soften him up before she sprawls on him. He is kind of boney.
last week's thinking and doing § next week's thinking and doing
New loves include Espers The Weed Tree which reminds us very much of Pentangle, and Tunng's Mothers Daughters and Other Songs which is early folk revivial-ish, too. Lovely. Things I think we'll be listening to for quite a while.
last week's listening § next week's listening
The only book I read this week was Alan Campbell's fantasy Scar Night. It's a Gothic tale of angels, poisoners, priests, assassins, gods, old machinery, faith, revenge, serial murders, and a city built on chains strung over an abyss. I read this in far too many tiny scraps of time, but found it intriguing and inventive.
last week's reading § next week's reading
Participated in a big reading to celebrate the The Long Journey: Pacific Northwest Poets anthology at Hugo House. It was fun to be in a group reading with people I didn't know well but had heard of and/or admired for a while.
Same old same old with the novel. Progress, light at end of tunnel slowly approaching. Or is that a train about to run me over?
last week's writing § next week's writing
Too busy a week, sorry.
last week's old journal § next week's old journal
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