I’m knee-deep in creationist textbooks. It takes bloody forever to get through a chapter because I have to constantly stop and look shit up. And I just found a copy of A Beka’s latest mangling of Earth science, so I’ll soon have more work to do. I’ll start posting the results in September for your entertainment/outrage, but for the moment, all I can give you is cat photos.
Misha has a very large porch, and lots of places on it. She has her pillow
and her rug
and under the new chair
and on the new chair.
But the spot she really wants at any given time is the chair I’m on, which at that moment was the lounge chair. Being a cat, she took partial ownership.
She purred hard enough when I sat back down with the cereal that she had the whole chair humming. Totes adorbs, so of course she got some of the milk. And when I went in for lunch, my chair was forfeit.
She thought this entertaining until I sat down on the patio chair. Then it was no fun anymore, because I had a comfy chair, and she’s too old to jump up in my lap at that height. Also, the workers in the next apartment began making too much noise, so she buggered off.
I know, she’s spoiled rotten. At her age, she can have almost anything she wants. Including my chairs.
This is the best part about working from home. She’s still alert and active and curious and feisty. We get to spend nearly every moment together, while she’s still got good times left. I’ll miss her terribly when she’s gone. But at least I’ll have these moments to remember. We’ll squeeze a lot of good times out of these days. And she’ll always be part of me.
I’ll even have the scars to prove it, vicious wee beastie that she is.